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"I was in a transport of delight — Frontispiece. 


The Drifting of 
the Cavashaws 

By 

R. NORMAN GRISEWOOD 

» % 

t 

II 1 ustrations by 
WARREN Y. CLUFF y 

t . 

R . F. Fen no & Company 

18 East Seventeenth Street : : New York 

/ \ I 





Copyright, 1913, by 
R. F. FENNO & COMPANY 


©CI.A358366 


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t *-0 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I The Colonel Prepares a Surprise 9 

II The Unexpected Guest 16 

III Val Lesears 24 

IV Three Days' Rain 29 

V Sibyl and I 37 

VI The Storm 45 

VII The Rescue 55 

VIII Treachery 63 

IX A Midnight Visitor 72 

X An Unwelcome Discovery .... 80 

XI My Attempt at Heroism 88 

XII A Welcome Discovery 98 

XIII I Face the Ladies 104 

XIV A Few Engine-Room Experiences . 115 

XV Pride has its Fall 123 

XVI I Awaken to Real Facts 133 

XVII Sibyl and I Lay Plans 143 

XVIII Lesears Tells a Snake Story . . .158 

XIX Sibyl Drops Her Key 169 

XX The Midnight Encounter in the 

Saloon 186 


7 


8 


Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXI Lesears Pays Me a Visit . . . .195 
XXII Land! 202 

XXIII I Part from Sibyl 215 

XXIV Some Confidences are Exchanged . 225 

XXV Marooned 238 

XXVI The Vision of the Night .... 244 

XXVII Old Friends Meet 250 

XXVIII The Yacht Returns 257 

XXIX Sibyl Falls into the Enemy’s Hands 264 
XXX I Attempt a Rescue — and Fail! . . 273 
XXXI I Determine Not to Turn Back . . 282 

XXXII My Meeting with Sibyl 290 

XXXIII I Save an Enemy 298 

XXXIV Sibyl and Lesears 305 

XXXV The passing of Lesears 315 

XXXVI In Conclusion ........ 330 


The 


Drifting of the Cavashaws 


CHAPTER I. 

THE COLONEL PREPARES A SURPRISE. 

“Colonel Cavashaw, sir!” sang out Captain 
Watterson from the bridge in his soft Southern ac- 
cent, “ the launch is under way.” Then closing his 
marine glasses with a snap, he added : “ Madam 

and the party are aboard, sir,” and turned to issue 
commands to his crew. 

The Colonel rose and stretched himself with a 
yawn. “ Here they come, Carlton,” he said, no- 
ticing that I was awake. “ Better hide yourself, my 
boy ! ” 

We had been dozing on the after-deck of the Col- 
onel’s yacht Idyl, as she lay in New York Harbor 
awaiting the remainder of her passengers before 
9 


10 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

sailing for West Indian waters. I had given my 
consent to be a member of the party only the pre- 
vious evening, and had passed the night on board at 
the earnest request of my host. The Colonel had 
taken dinner with me at the club for the purpose of 
letting me into his secret, and would hear of no ex- 
cuses to his invitation. 

“ Oh, come on ! ” he had insisted, when I de- 
murred on the not unreasonable grounds of insuffi- 
cient notice. “ It's a little surprise I’m preparing 
for mother and the girls. They’ll be delighted to 
see you. Throw some things into a bag and let’s get 
aboard to-night.” 

“ But what about Briggs ? ” I said somewhat 
weakly. “ What will he have to say about my de- 
sertion ? ” 

Horace Briggs was a mutual friend, and my part- 
ner in the firm of Carlton and Briggs, brokers; 
which estimable, though misguided, concern was 
about to pass into the hands of the receivers. 

“ Briggs ! ” exclaimed the Colonel in well-feigned 
surprise. “ You don’t mean to tell me that you 
can be of any assistance to Briggs ? You had better 
get away before he thinks to tell you the extent of 
your liabilities.” 


The Colonel Prepares a Surprise 11 

It was popularly conceded that Briggs furnished 
the brains of the firm, while I had contributed the 
money. And in the latter particular, at least, the 
assumption was correct. But, as matters now stood, 
I realized that there was very little evidence of 
either of these equally valuable assets. 

My capitulation to the Colonel soon followed. 

Thus it was that I had deserted my post, fled my 
responsibilities, and now found myself on board 
the Idyl participating in the Colonel's “ little sur- 
prise ” to an extent quite beyond what I imagined — 
a fact of which I was not long to remain in ignor- 
ance. 

The Colonel stood with his glasses trained upon 
the approaching launch, which was now within half 
a mile of us. 

“Who's aboard?” I asked, joining him at the 
rail. 

“Well, I can make out mother and Janet, and — 
oh, yes, there’s Sibyl behind mother’s big hat.” 
Then, after a pause : “ — and Lesears. You’ve met 
Val Lesears, haven’t you, Carlton?” 

“ Lesears ! ” I exclaimed in surprise. And then, 
checking the question that instinctively came to my 
lips, I said: “Yes, I know Lesears slightly — only 


12 The Drifting of the Cavashavvs 

slightly though.” The fact was, that the little I did 
know about the man was not at all to his credit. 

“ Well, he’s coming along with us/’ returned my 
host handing me the glasses. “ He’s a friend of the 
family’s, you know — that is, mother and Sibyl 
seem to like him well enough.” 

I took the proffered glasses with an eagerness 
which I fear was somewhat excessive, and focused 
them upon the approaching launch and its occu- 
pants. These, I observed, consisted of Mrs. Cav- 
ashaw and her sister, Miss Janet Ashleigh, both 
elderly ladies, Sibyl Cavashaw, — a girl of nineteen — 
and Lesears. The two latter were seated together in 
the stern of the boat, Lesears holding the tiller, 
much to the apparent embarrassment of the chief 
officer who sat disconsolately in the bow. I could 
not refrain from smiling at this evidence of Lesears’ 
characteristic officiousness. But here my observa- 
tions were cut short by the Colonel drawing me 
away from the rail. 

“ Mother can recognize you a mile off, Carlton ! ” 
he said. “ You had better go below until they come 
aboard, or you’ll spoil the surprise I want to give 
them all.” 

I complied with his request, promising not to 


The Colonel Prepares a Surprise 13 

reveal myself until he gave the signal, and betook 
myself to the saloon, where I selected a window 
which would command a view of the launch when 
it arrived at the ship’s side. 

Left to my own reflections I began to see the 
Colonel’s little joke in a new light. The manner in 
which he had mentioned Lesears as being a member 
of the party convinced me that he had his mis- 
givings. Practical jokes were one of the Colonel’s 
weaknesses, to be sure; but had he sought to hide 
the real reason of his action, in thus smuggling me 
aboard, under cover of one of his well-known char- 
acteristics ? In short, was my presence on board the 
yacht designed as a polite though effective contre- 
temps to the affairs of the two lovers? If so, the 
Colonel was more subtle than I had ever suspected. 

And yet, granting my supposition to be correct, 
what was more natural than that I should be chosen 
for the purpose ? I had known the Cavashaws since 
childhood, when we were neighbors, and the Col- 
onel had helped me to fly my kite upon the Berk- 
shire hills. In those days, too, Sibyl had been my 
playmate, and I have since prided myself in the 
knowledge that I performed a most important role 
in her bringing-up. An orphan, the inmate of an 


14 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

institution, she had been adopted by the Colonel 
and his wife when but an infant. The circum- 
stances surrounding the adoption I had never heard, 
nor was the subject ever alluded to in after years. 
Indeed, so carefully were the particulars guarded 
that, beyond the fact that she was an adopted child, 
Sibyl herself knew naught. 

Thus had there been thrust into the lives of this 
unprolific couple all the responsibilities and mys- 
teries which encompass childhood. My importance 
to the family had grown from that hour. Daily the 
little orphan became more and more my charge, 
until, at the age of thirteen, Sibyl left for boarding- 
school. On that memorable occasion we had parted 
like brother and sister. 

But the five intervening years had wrought a big 
change in the Cavashaws’ adopted daughter. This 
I was able to discern in the momentary glimpse that 
I had caught of her through the Colonel’s glasses. 
And the change seemed the more wonderful as the 
Colonel still spoke of her as a child, and still re- 
ferred to his wife as “ Mother,” a habit which he 
had acquired at the time of the adoption. 

Sibyl was no longer the naive little girl that I had 
kissed good-bye at our last parting. Indeed, the 


The Colonel Prepares a Surprise 15 

very thought of this affectionate leave-taking filled 
me with a vague sense of uneasiness. I recollected 
how desultory our correspondence had become dur- 
ing the last two years ; and how, in Sibyl’s last letter 
which reached me on Christmas Day, she had ac- 
cused me of being dictatorial. I had not found the 
courage to reply. 

Altogether, looking at it in the light of these re- 
flections, my presence on board the Idyl began to 
assume a most embarrassing aspect, made infinitely 
worse by the unexpected debut which I was about to 
make. 

“ What a fool I am to be hiding down here ! ” I 
muttered, springing to my feet with the determi- 
nation of going up on deck forthwith. But at that 
instant the sound of merry voices reached me 
through the open port, mingled with the commands 
of the Captain and the grating of the launch against 
the steamer’s side. Simultaneously I heard the 
Colonel’s boisterous greeting from the deck above, 
and realized that my chance of acting like a sane 
person had vanished. 


CHAPTER II. 


THE UNEXPECTED GUEST. 

I approached the window cautiously and peered 
out. It was evident, at once, that I had misjudged 
Lesears in at least one respect. And this discovery 
had the effect of making me feel that my conjecture 
as to the underlying cause of my invitation was, in 
all probability, absurd. 

The Colonel’s guest had assumed charge of the 
launch for the very commendable, and equally ap- 
parent, reason that the chief officer was intoxicated 
to the degree of having to be assisted up the ac- 
commodation ladder. In a voice that could be heard 
throughout the vessel, Captain Watterson ordered 
the man below to his quarters, and then gallantly 
turned his attention to getting his passengers 
aboard. The incident, although somewhat discon- 
certing to the ladies, was soon forgotten, and no 
traces of the impending storm was discernible in 
the Captain’s affable demeanor. 

16 


The Unexpected Guest 


17 


Mrs. Cavashaw was the first to ascend the steps, 
followed by her sister ; Lesears assisting both ladies 
to the first landing, where stood Captain Watterson 
now wreathed in smiles. There was some little de- 
lay, to be sure, before Miss Ashleigh could be pre- 
vailed upon to part momentarily from a basket con- 
taining her pet Maltese cat, and a parcel in which 
was a caged canary. 

“ No, George ! ” she called back to the Colonel, 
who had instructed the engineer of the launch to 
take charge of the articles. “ I wouldn’t have those 
dear creatures drowned for anything ! Give them to 
me, my good man.” 

“ But, Janet,” persisted the Colonel in his most 
persuasive tones, “ both you and the dear creatures 
will be drowned, if you attempt to carry them up 
that ladder.” 

“ Yes, ma’am,” chimed in the sailor. “ Couldn’t 
do it myself, ma’am.” 

“ Then, how do you propose to get them on board, 
my man? ” was the quick rejoinder. 

“ Have ’em hauled up, ma’am.” 

“ Hauled up, indeed — the idea! You shall do no 
such thing ! ” retorted the indignant lady. “ George, 
I will not have my pets hauled up ! ” 


18 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

“ Oh, he can carry them up, one at a time,” ex- 
plained her ingenious brother-in-law. “ If he’s 
careful, I’ve no doubt he can manage it all right.” 

Thus, Miss Ashleigh was finally persuaded to 
mount the steps, which she did very gingerly, calling 
back numerous instructions as to how the respective 
articles were to be held, in order to insure the 
greatest possible comfort to the occupants. 

Sibyl next placed her neat little foot upon the 
ladder, revealing a comely ankle as she lifted her 
skirts daintily in order to avoid contact with the 
damp steps. She half turned toward Lesears as 
she did so, and both laughed at some remark which 
passed. At that instant her foot slipped upon the 
wet wood and she fell backwards. 

I never have seen anything more neatly executed 
than the way in which Lesears caught the slender 
figure in its fall. His arm shot out and passed 
around the girl’s waist, and for some seconds he 
supported her full weight. Although standing upon 
the seat of an unsteady boat, he maintained his bal- 
ance perfectly; and during the few moments in 
which Sibyl remained in his arms, there passed be- 
tween them a glance in which something more than 
mere gratitude and admiration was written. 


The Unexpected Guest 


19 


This much I had witnessed through the saloon 
window, as it was all the happening of an instant. 
But I was soon hurrying to the deck, anxious to 
learn whether Miss Cavashaw had sustained any 
injury. 

At the head of the companionway I was met by 
the Colonel who was a few feet in advance of the 
rest of the party. 

“ Why, mother, look who’s here ! ” he cried, play- 
ing his part admirably. “ Who’d ever have thought 
that Charlie Carlton would become a stowaway!” 
And immediately I was in the midst of the aston- 
ished group. 

“ Charles Edgar Carlton ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Cav- 
ashaw, throwing up her hands in genuine dismay. 
“ Where ever did you come from?” And then, 
before my indignation at the Colonel’s treatment 
could find expression in more than a stiff bow, she 
added sympathetically : “ You poor boy ! How did 
you escape from that horrid man, Briggs? I have 
always said that he was simply after your money. 
It just serves him right if you have left him to his 
wicked ways ! ” 

I caught a look of keen enjoyment in the Col- 
onel’s face while his wife was speaking. Sibyl and 


20 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

Lesears, very fortunately, were behind me. I felt 
that I looked, and was, a fool. 

“ Madam,” I said, speaking with cool delibera- 
tion, “ I am not escaping from Mr. Briggs. Last 
evening I dined with your huband, and ” 

“ Ah ! so he did, so he did — now I remember ! ” 
piped in the Colonel. “Such a dinner, too, my 
dear! Well, well; who’d have suspected that it 
would result in giving us Carlton’s charming com- 
pany on the cruise? My! but it was a time ” 

“ George ! ” ejaculated his wife, in the tone that 
a mother would use to reprove her son ; — • 
“ George!” 

But the Colonel’s sense of humor was not to be 
thus rebuffed, and turning me about he presented 
me to the rest of the company with befitting witti- 
cisms. 

Sibyl gave me a cold little hand which trembled 
perceptibly, and caused me to start as I touched it. 
Her greeting was, perhaps, even colder than her 
hand, but I did not realize this at the time. I 
thought only that the poor girl was suffering in- 
tensely from the shock of her recent narrow escape, 
and in my solicitude I hastened to express my fears. 

The next moment I regretted having done so. 


The Unexpected Guest 


21 


“ You appear to have witnessed the incident, Mr. 
Carlton,” she said in a tone of mild surprise and, 
I thought, of slight contempt. 

I had greeted her as “ Sibyl ” a few moments 
before. 

“ Yes,” I stammered in confusion, “ I did. I was 
hurrying to the deck to ascertain whether you had 
been injured, when I met you all coming down.” 

She made no response to this exceedingly lame 
confession ; and, in the momentary silence which en- 
sued, I noticed that Lesears and the Colonel had 
returned to the deck, while the two elder ladies had 
withdrawn to their staterooms. 

“ Sibyl,” I said earnestly, “ — Miss Cavashaw, 
then, if you prefer it, — I realize that I owe you an 
explanation, but I will not detain you with it now. 
You should rest, and be perfectly quiet after the 
severe shock to which you have been subjected.” 

I spoke with genuine feeling, for it seemed as 
though the girl was upon the verge of collapse. In- 
deed, I instinctively stepped toward her to offer my 
support. But she quickly retreated from me. 

“ You do not owe me anything,” she said dis- 
dainfully. “ If you chose to hide your presence un- 
til we came on board, it does not concern me. But 


22 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


if you are bent upon apologizing to some one, let it 
be to Mr. Lesears, for it was I who invited him, 
and I made no mention of any other guest.” 

With this last thrust of sarcasm she turned and 
left the saloon, tottering rather than walking; while 
I stood helpless to render her any assistance, know- 
ing that my offer would meet with indignant refusal. 

I think that if the yacht had not already been un- 
der way, I should have reconsidered my decision to 
be one of the party. Not that I attached any blame 
to Sibyl. I felt that it was the sequel of events, 
rather than merely my unexpected appearance, that 
had led to her unfriendly attitude towards me. If 
she had not entirely misinterpreted my letters dur- 
ing the five preceding years, she would not so un- 
justly have misconstrued my presence aboard the 
yacht now. Nor did I feel that Colonel Cavashaw 
was to blame for the unpleasant turn my affairs 
had taken. It is true that I was the victim of one of 
the Colonel’s practical jokes. But the joke, in itself, 
was innocent enough, and had there not been any 
previous misunderstanding between Sibyl and my- 
self, nothing like my present predicament could have 
resulted. 

The fault was clearly mine, in not having foreseen 


The Unexpected Guest 


23 


the certain and unhappy consequences of making a 
joke of my unexpected appearance. Indeed, the 
matter was one that called for the most delicate and 
skillful handling, in view of my unfavorable stand- 
ing in Sibyl’s estimation. Her letter accusing me 
of being dictatorial, whether merited or unmerited, 
had remained unanswered for almost ten months; 
and suddenly to thrust myself upon her in this 
absurd fashion, was truly unjustifiable. I should 
have taken Colonel Cavashaw into my confidence 
and warned him of this. 

It was now too late, however, to think of aught 
but redeeming myself in Sibyl’s favor. I felt that 
I had received a well-chosen, and thoroughly mer- 
ited, rebuke; and I determined not to attempt to 
justify my action, but, if possible, to live it down. 
My acceptance of Lesears as Sibyl’s fiance, and 
therefore entitled to first consideration in all that 
concerned that young lady, appeared to be the pri- 
mary step in this direction, and I determined to con- 
duct myself accordingly. 


CHAPTER III. 


VAL LESEARS. 

I found the Colonel and Lesears on deck, and 
joined them in their walk. We had passed through 
the Narrows, and were headed for the open sea by 
way of the Ambrose Channel. Already the yacht 
felt a gentle swell, which, with the stiffening breeze, 
gave promise of becoming more definite in character 
when we rounded the Hook. 

The Colonel, who was a veritable old salt, and 
never so happy as when, from the deck of his 
yacht, he watched her breasting the clear blue waters 
of the Atlantic and drank in the briny air — the 
Colonel was delighted with the aspect of things. 

“ Carlton, my boy,” he exclaimed, hooking my 
arm as I emerged upon deck, “ we’ll have need of 
our sea-legs upon this voyage, so our friend here 
tells me. And I think you said that you were born 
at sea, eh, Lesears, — or a born sailor, was it? ” 

“ Both,” returned that worthy gentleman, turn- 

24 


Val Lesears 


25 


in g aloft a nautical eye (which, by the way, was a 
monocled one) and surveying the heavens critically. 
“ I tell you, Cavashaw, there’s mighty few sailors 
who have lived to yarn about the kind of weather 
that I’ve been through. Why, I was born in a 
blessed typhoon ! Somewhere between Bombay and 
Suez, it was. Don’t know exactly, you see, as I 
wasn’t taking observations those days. Blowing 
like the devil when I dropped in, — and it’ll be blow- 
ing like the devil when I drop out, according to a 
clairvoyant.” 

And, strangely enough, in this particular, whether 
by chance or by genuine psychical perception, the 
clairvoyant had foreshadowed his future correctly. 

“ All of which means that you can navigate a 
ship like a skipper, eh, Lesears ? ” I added pleas- 
antly. 

“ Rather ! And a deuced lot better than most 
skippers I’ve known. Shouldn’t mind trying my 
hand against the old man up there ; ” with a signifi- 
cant nod in the direction of the bridge. 

“ I’ve a right good mind to take you at your 
word ! ” exclaimed the Colonel, who had been 
touched in a very sensitive spot by this reference to 
his skipper. “If Watterson wasn’t such a strict 


26 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

disciplinarian, I’d have you on the bridge with him 
this noon ! ” 

Lesears adjusted his eye-glass with a series of re- 
markable facial contortions, and surveyed the Col- 
onel in astonishment. 

“ By Jove, Cavashaw ! ” he exclaimed, “ you don’t 
mean to tell me that you can’t do as you jolly well 
please on your own yacht? ” 

“ Not if it interferes with Watterson,” replied 
our host with a decisive shake of the head. “ Wat- 
terson’s one of the old school — a regular sea-dog 
when it comes to exercising his authority. Like a 
bomb at times, liable to explode any moment, eh, 
Carlton?” 

This reference to his skipper’s explosive tenden- 
cies was one of the Colonel’s favorite reminiscences, 
and recalled to my mind the one occasion on which 
I had been so unfortunate as to cross the Captain’s 
purposes. I smiled at the recollection, and nodded 
my acquiescence. 

“ Um — you don’t say ! Really you surprise me ! ” 
drawled Lesears. “ A regular bombastic-devil-may- 
care-modern-buccaneer-no-end, eh ? I know the 
breed, by Jove, thick as flies out East. Fires a 
beastly lot of nautical slang at one, with perhaps a 


Val Lesears 


27 


sprinkling of really bad oaths. Well, I’ll handle 
him for you — trust me, Cavashaw! If he’s the sea- 
dog that you say he is, he ougHt to have instinct 
enough to know that he can’t scare me that way.” 

At this moment the Captain himself stepped out 
of the companionway immediately behind Lesears, 
and taking the Colonel to one side, conversed earn- 
estly with him in a low tone. He gave no indica- 
tion of having overheard what was said, but as 
Lesears stood within a couple of feet of the com- 
panionway, it could hardly be supposed that the re- 
mark had escaped him. From the few words which 
were distinguishable, I judged that the subject of 
conversation was the delinquent mate. 

Lesears and I walked to the after-deck, leaving 
the two men free to talk. It was evident that my 
companion was in no way disturbed by the unfortu- 
nate incident, and realizing that he had quite a 
wrong impression of our host’s attitude toward his 
master mariner, I sought to give him timely warn- 
ing to this effect. The result, however, only proved 
that Lesears was, in every way, what I had judged 
him to be ; and I took an early opportunity of going 
below, under pretext of wishing to write a few let- 
ters to send ashore with the pilot. 


28 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


In the seclusion of my stateroom I tried to arrive 
at a logical explanation of both Lesears’ invitation 
and my own, but failed utterly. One result of my 
reasoning, however, was the conviction that the 
Colonel knew as much about Lesears as I did, and 
possibly more, and that for some good reason he 
sought to hide this knowledge not only from his 
family and me, but even from Lesears himself. 
What this reason was, I could not conceive, but I 
had little doubt that before the end of the voyage a 
solution would present itself. 


CHAPTER IV. 

THREE DAYS’ RAIN. 

Sibyl was really ill as a result of her experience 
while boarding the yacht; and it was not until the 
afternoon of the third day at sea that she left her 
cabin, and gave three jaded men the enlivenment 
of her company. Wet weather with a raw north 
wind had kept us below since the day of our de- 
parture, seriously taxing the dispositions of at least 
two of the company — Lesears and myself. 

Colonel Cavashaw was the only one who found 
sufficient occupation for both mind and body dur- 
ing these two miserable days. All his time and tact 
were needed to preserve peace between the Captain 
and his mate. And to further this much desired 
condition, a ban was placed upon all liquor aboard 
the yacht, to the end that Mr. Swenaldi, the mate, 
might find it impossible to become intoxicated for 
the third time ; he having no sooner recovered from 
his first inebriety, than he embarked upon a second 
one. 

29 


30 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

The two elderly ladies fretted much at the en- 
forced confinement between decks, but finally settled 
down to needlework, abandoning me, despite my 
wiles of dominoes and cards, to the unfortunate fate 
of having to entertain Lesears. This I made a con- 
scientious effort to do, realizing that it was, in a 
way, incumbent upon me. But I failed utterly. 

I spent hours in my stateroom reading, and finally 
conceived the idea of keeping a diary, or “ ship’s 
log” as I termed it. In pursuit of material, and the 
better to keep in touch with events, I would fre- 
quent every part of the yacht, from forecastle to 
saloon galley. This contact with the crew furnished 
me with a rare knowledge of what transpired inter 
se, and awakened me to facts hitherto undreamt of. 
Indeed, it ultimately led to a disclosure of no small 
importance. 

Grog, I found, was the one topic of the fore- 
castle. Without grog no work could be expected of 
the men. And as that life-giving commodity had 
come under the ban, the spirit of the crew was not 
far from being mutinous. 

“ I’ll tell yer ’ow it is, guv’nor,” said one of them 
in a sudden tone of confidence, after I had donated 
a handful of cigars with the suggestion that they 


Three Days’ Rain 


31 


might help to overcome his prodigious thirst. “ Me 
and Bill ’ere, and Joe Turner as is over yonder 
scrubbin’ decks, we ain’t no Yankee lugs. Beggin’ 
yer pardon, sir, but no offense meant. We’re as 
good a set of British tars as ever spliced ’emp. Not 
as I’m sayin’ aught agin Spike there. ’E’s only a 
lad, an’ rum ain’t good for ’im any’ow. But wot 
we says, me, Bill, and Joe, is that we’ll quit if we 
don’t get the grub as is ’lowed by the British law. 
Ain’t that right, Bill?” 

“ Sure t’ing, Boss ! ” vouched Bill, in as good a 
Bowery accent as one could find on the East Side. 

“But,” I protested, “ I thought that the com- 
plaint was about the rum.” 

“ Bless yer ’art, guv’nor, so it is ! That’s the 
only grub we cares about. It’s bread and meat and 
cheese to us, with greens thrown in. Our consti- 
tootions demand it, mate ! I’ve seen as ’ale and ’arty 
a man as ever yer slapped yer eyes on, wither-up-like 
and die in a week for want of it. An’ mind yer, sir, 
we ain’t got nothin’ agin the Cap’n, nor agin the 
Colonel, bless ’is ’art ! It’s that there foreign bloke 
as they ships fer mate, an’ who don’t know as much 
about navigation as that there cat. ’E comes aboard 
with a list on ’im like a brig in a typhoon, an’ swears 


32 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

an' ’oilers all night for more rum — Matie, it womd 
’ave brought the tears to yer eyes ter ’ave seen us 
poor lads give ’im the last drop we ’ad, just to keep 
’im quiet-like, so as ’e wouldn’t disturb the ladies 
wot were aboard. Ain’t that right, Bill? An’ then 
wot ’appens ? Why, Cap’n orders that no more rum 
be ’anded out all th’ voyage ! That’s wot we ’ears ; 
an’ not a d — d drop we’ve ’ad since. An’ as if that’s 
not ’ard enough on us poor honest seamen, we sees 
th’ mate guzzling it by th’ pint from th’ saloon.” 

“What’s that?” I exclaimed. “You say that 
you saw the mate take liquor from the saloon? ” 

“ Well no, guv’nor, not exactly take it, yer know. 
But th’ gent as wears one of them port-lights in ’is 
eye, ’e gives th’ mate all ’e wants of it; don’t ’e, 
Bill?” 

“ Sure ! ” averred the Bowery gentleman con- 
temptuously. “ I seed der guy hand der mate a 
pint not more ’an five minutes back. He’s wid ’im 
now, chewing der rag about something mighty im- 
portant. They’re as thick as flies. Say! ” he added 
with a knowing wink, “ It was dat guy wot got der 
mate full before he come aboard. He was hollering 
fer him all night ; ain’t dat right, Sam ? ” 

“ Gospel ! ” quoth Sam, rolling his quid up into a 


Three Days’ Rain 


33 


convenient corner of his mouth, preparatory to 
furnishing further enlightenment. 

But I had no desire to hear the Colonel’s guest 
discussed by these men, and, promising to do what I 
could for them, I turned on my heel to go. But, 
whether fearing the consequences of being over- 
confidential, or with a genuine desire to give me 
timely warning, the man came after me and touched 
my arm. 

“ Beggin’ yer pardon, guv’nor,” he said with a 
furtive glance around him, and speaking from be- 
hind his hand, “ me and Bill wouldn’t speak ’ard of 
a friend of yourn. Wot we says is ‘ friends is 
friends.’ But that there foreign bloke, ’e ain’t no 
friend of yourn. We ’eard enough for that ” 

“ That’s all right ! ” I interrupted. “ I under- 
stand. What you have said shall not be repeated.” 
And, thereupon, I returned to my stateroom with 
ample material for the ship’s log, and food for 
meditation to boot. 

I had no reason to doubt the sailor’s story with re- 
gard to Lesears ; indeed, it fitted in so well with what 
I knew of the man that it did not even surprise me. 
I had always known him to possess an inordinate 
fondness for carousing; and if I had incurred his 


34 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

enmity, the fact caused me no apprehensions. It 
was not strange, in the circumstances, that Lesears 
had no great liking for me and, I confess, the 
antipathy was reciprocated. Nor did I consider that 
it was at all incumbent upon me to inform my host 
of what I had heard. He would doubtless discover 
the cause of the mate’s habitual drunkenness soon 
enough, if he did not already suspect it. The incon- 
ceivable feature of the whole affair was that the 
Colonel, knowing Lesears as he undoubtedly did, 
had sanctioned his invitation. There was some 
hidden reason, some mysterious underlying cause, 
of which I, at least, was entirely ignorant. 

It could not be denied that this Easterner, with a 
generous strain of Hindu blood in his veins, had 
many personal attractions of the kind best calculated 
to capture a naive, unsophisticated girl such as I 
knew Sibyl to be. Slightly under six feet, athletic 
of build, with clear-cut features, intensely dark eyes, 
and black curly hair, Lesears was a man whom any 
woman might licitly glance at twice. And, indeed, 
to my knowledge, many a woman had done so, for 
it was his notorious reputation as a Don Juan f that 
caused me to marvel at the Colonel’s apparent indif- 
ference to his association with Sibyl. 


Three Days’ Rain 


35 


Could it be that the girl was temporarily 
fascinated by Lesears, and that her guardian hoped, 
by thus bringing them continually together under 
conditions which were eminently safe, that Sibyl 
might outgrow her infatuation? I was obliged to 
admit, much as I resented the idea, that there was a 
great deal to substantiate it. Lesears had the eyes 
of a hypnotist. At times there shone within their 
dark depths a strange wild light, which had the 
effect of making the Eurasian appear almost 
diabolical. I had noticed it on several occasions at 
the club, chiefly when he was intensely excited, as at 
a crucial moment in a game of cards, or when 
he was apparently laboring under some subdued and 
passionate emotion. 

There was yet another possible explanation of this 
strange mating of two such utterly incompatible 
natures, and the thought entered my mind with the 
suddenness of actual knowledge. Was Lesears, the 
notorious libertine, holding over the orphan girl that 
which she dreaded even to the extent of selling her- 
self to him, as the price of a few more years — 
perhaps months — of the happiness which she had 
enjoyed since childhood? I was ignorant of the 
conditions under which Sibyl had entered the in- 


36 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

stitution whence she was adopted. The circum- 
stances of her birth and parentage were known only 
to Colonel Cavashaw and his wife, and were deemed 
by them to be of so sacred a nature, as to warrant 
their being guarded jealously, even from Sibyl her- 
self. But I had noted that with the advent of girl- 
hood there grew in Sibyl a vague intuitive fear of 
the past. Had Lesears observed this, too? And, 
learning of the adoption, was he holding over the 
defenceless girl a nefarious fabrication, with the 
threat of publicity if she did not conform to his 
wishes ? 

I had no knowledge of how long they had known 
each other, nor of the circumstances under which 
they had met, but, as a result of this reasoning, I 
became convinced that Lesears, in some way, ex- 
erted a powerful influence over Sibyl. Also, that 
the Colonel, recognizing this fact and realizing that 
interference would only precipitate matters, with 
perhaps disastrous results, had decided upon the 
safer course of strategy. 


CHAPTER V. 


SIBYL AND I. 

A knock at my stateroom door roused me from 
the light sleep into which my ruminations had 
treacherously led. 

“ Mr. Carlton/’ a silvery voice inquired, “ won’t 
you play a game of shuffleboard before dinner ? ” 

The voice I recognized as Sibyl’s, and the invita- 
tion as a gracious desire that the proverbial wood- 
man’s implement should be interred without cere- 
mony. I therefore lost no time in throwing open 
the door and bowing to my charming petitioner, 
whose three days’ imprisonment had wrought such 
desolation. 

“ At last you have taken compassion on us poor 
men ! ” I exclaimed gaily. “ I should be delighted 
to play a game, Miss Cavashaw, if you feel equal to 
it. What are the sides ? ” 

“ Mother and you, against Mr. Lesears and me. 
Have you finished your writing ? ” 

37 


38 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

“ My writing ? ” I repeated in surprise. Then re- 
calling that I had used that excuse to Lesears soon 
after lunch, I added : “ Well — no, I haven’t exactly 
finished, but I suppose it won’t matter much.” 

“ You’ve been asleep! Come now, confess.” 

“ But I had no idea that we were to have this 
pleasure. Really I ” 

“ You are evading the point ! ” 

“ Well, yes,” I confessed, “ I suppose that I must 
have dozed. It is much later than I thought.” 

“And mother and Aunt Janet were asleep; and 
poor dad has had his hands full all afternoon, be- 
tween Captain Watterson and that worthless mate; 
— a most interesting state of affairs for our guest ! ” 

“ Yes,” I admitted, “ it was mean of me.” 

“ It was — really mean, Edgar ! For you are as 
much a member of the family as I am — you know 
that.” 

These words were spoken in a tone of quiet re- 
proach, so soft that I glanced quickly down at the 
beautiful face beside me. I saw there the Sibyl of 
old, as if for an instant transformed. It was as 
though she had spoken through the mists of inter- 
vening years — the girl whom I had loved as dearly 
as a sister, and who had loved me. The same 


Sibyl and I 


39 


strange light was in her eyes, the same sad smile 
was upon her lips, that I had always seen whenever 
she referred to her adoption, and yet had never 
understood — until now. 

I felt that an ever-smoldering fire within me had 
suddenly burst into fierce and consuming flame. 
“ Sibyl ! ” I exclaimed, in a voice that sounded 
strangely hoarse and unfamiliar, " — dear Sibyl ! 99 

We had reached the saloon, and stood at the foot 
of the companionway stairs. Sibyl gave a startled 
glance about her — we were alone. 

“ No — those days have gone ! ” che said, quickly 
divining my thoughts and speaking in breathless 
haste, her face close to mine. “ They can never re- 
turn — never! But, for their sake, forgive me! I 
was cruel, but I did not mean to be ! ” Then, as she 
had often done when a child, she seized my face be- 
tween her small, soft hands and kissed it quickly, 
impulsively, passionately. “ Edgar — dear Edgar,” 
she whispered, “ you will never know what the 
memory of those days means to me . . . You do not 
understand ! . . . I was a child then, and told you all — 
everything! ... It is impossible now! . . . You can 
never know the torture it is — how my spirit revolts 
against it! . . . And yet, it is all that is left me — all, 


40 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

all! I must try to close my eyes to its hideous- 
ness! ” 

And ere my dull senses could form a response to 
this passionate outburst, Sibyl had ascended the 
stairs and passed out upon the deck. Thither I fol- 
lowed her, my mind teeming with hasty conceptions 
of a new and wonderful life which seemed suddenly 
to have come within my reach. 

These dreams, however, I was soon obliged to 
thrust aside, that I might do justice to my partner, 
Mrs. Cavashaw, against our opponents’ clever play. 
Throughout the game Sibyl showed no sign of the 
emotions which I had so recently witnessed. To 
me, she was surrounded by a subtle charm — a depth 
of impenetrable mystery — the solution of which my 
body and soul craved for. I was intoxicated by 
what had passed between us — by the knowledge that 
our relation to each other had undergone a sudden 
and remarkable change. In one wonderful, intense 
moment she had risen to a height that no other 
woman had ever occupied. She was a sacred thing 
to me, even then, though I had yet to learn the mad- 
ness of my passion for her. 

My play was as wild as the tumult of thoughts 
that surged within me. Twice I fancied that I de- 


Sibyl and I 


41 


tected a warning in Sibyl’s quick glance. And 
finally, after I had made a particularly clumsy shot, 
she stamped her foot with impatience. 

“ Mr. Carlton,” she declared icily, “ you are de- 
liberately spoiling the game ! — There was no excuse 
for that shot, mother; Mr. Carlton can play an ex- 
cellent game ” 

“ Sibyl — Sibyl ! ” warned Mrs. Cavashaw in 
motherly reproof. 

“ Miss Cavashaw,” I said, “ I humbly apologize 
for that play— it was truly unpardonable. But pray 
let us proceed with the game, and I will promise to 
be more careful in future. I think that the roll- 
ing of the vessel was really responsible for that 
shot.” 

“ You deliberately did it ! ” insisted my accuser, 
with another impetuous stamp of her foot. 

It may be that this paroxysm of temper in Sibyl 
emphasized all that remained of her childhood, for 
my first impulse was to speak to her as one would 
soothe a petulant child — persuading and promising, 
on condition of good behavior. I had often done so 
before and I experienced great difficulty now in re- 
straining myself from exercising this bygone privi- 
lege. It was therefore with a feeling of bitter re- 


42 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

sentment that I observed Lesears in the act of doing 
what was virtually that very thing. 

Approaching Sibyl, who stood at the rail with her 
back to the company, he playfully patted her shoul- 
der. “ Come, little girlie/' he laughed, “ it's not as 
bad as all that! Carlton couldn't help that shot, 
y’know. Beastly bad luck, that’s what I call it ! . . . 
Very dickens of a swell on, y’know.” Then turning 
to our hostess, he added : “ Almost too rough to 

play, don’t you think, Mrs. Cavashaw ? ” 

With this my partner agreed, supplementing her 
decision with a few smiling, though thoroughly sin- 
cere, words of apology for her foster-daughter’s be- 
havior. 

And so ended Sibyl’s brave attempt to bridge over 
the differences of five years — ended, not only in fail- 
ure, but actual disaster, rendered the more distress- 
ing by the memory of those few sacred moments 
which preceded the game. 

Ostensibly to dress for dinner I went below, as I 
wished, above all, to spare the poor girl any further 
embarrassment. Lesears immediately followed my 
example, a proceeding which, despite my resentment 
of the man’s previous action, I could not help but 
admire. 


Sibyl and I 


43 


“ Sorry, o’man ! ” he observed, as we passed 
through the saloon. “ Most unfortunate affair, by 
Jove! Spirited girl, no end!” 

I made no response to these expressions of sym- 
pathy, as I saw no reason for them, and entered my 
stateroom without so much as glancing over my 
shoulder. 

It is strange how the affair affected me. Upon 
reflection, I realized that my attitude toward Lesears 
was palpably absurd. He was in no way to blame; 
indeed, when I subsequently brought my sane judg- 
ment to bear upon the facts, his conduct appeared 
clearly to his advantage. But I was in no mood, at 
the time, to single out phases of character which 
might be considered estimable in my rival — for such, 
I was obliged to admit, he now was. Sibyl’s pas- 
sionate confession in the saloon had not only con- 
firmed my worst fears in regard to Lesears’ in- 
fluence over the girl, but it had awakened within me 
a love for her which was as intense as it was precip- 
itant and unexpected. I was possessed by an over- 
whelming desire to show the Cavashaws’ guest in 
his true colors, but if I had hesitated before to make 
use of the information imparted to me by the sail- 
ors, I now scorned to do so. It was an affair which 


44 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

rested entirely between Lesears and myself — clearly 
a case of man to man — and I was determined that 
he should be promptly acquainted with that fact. 
Little did I know my enemy ! 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE STORM. 

Having dressed for dinner, I lit a cigarette and 
went up on deck for a breath of fresh air before be- 
ing summoned to the saloon. It was already dark, 
and the night gave promise of being a wild one. 
Huge whitecaps raced along the yacht’s sides, and 
broke over the rail in clouds of hissing spray at 
every roll of the vessel to windward. 

Finding it impossible to promenade, I was about 
to go below again when I thought of the after-deck. 
This was partially sheltered, and it was evident that 
if I could reach it without getting drenched by spray 
en route, I might smoke my cigarette in comparative 
comfort. The fact that my hastily assembled ward- 
robe contained but one dress-suit — the one I wore — 
only gave additional charm to the element of chance, 
and I determined, forthwith, to make the attempt. 

Watching my opportunity, I made a dash along 
the deck as the vessel rolled to leeward, and bounded 
45 


46 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


up the few steps leading to the after-deck just as a 
monster wave broke over the rail and washed the 
lower deck, over which I had come, fore and aft. 
For a moment the vessel staggered, then, with a ter- 
rific lurch, it sent its watery load back into the ocean 
with a roar like a veritable Niagara. 

The incident made me realize that I had escaped 
something more than a mere wetting. And as there 
was no way of getting below again except by the 
lower deck, my position began to appear anything 
but reassuring. There was no immediate danger, 
but I realized that a gale was blowing, and that the 
sea would, in all probability, continue to rise until 
the small hours of the morning. In such a case the 
after-deck would soon be untenable. I had experi- 
enced bad weather aboard the Idyl before, and knew 
her to be a staunch craft, capable of riding out any 
storm. But I also knew that, at such times, it was 
very much safer to be below decks than above them. 
Indeed, I recalled more than one occasion upon 
which the Captain and the man at the helm had been 
obliged to remain on the bridge, without sustenance, 
during an entire storm, owing to the impossibility 
of passing along the decks. 

As a result of these reflections I decided to lose 


The Storm 


47 


no time in getting back, and anxiously watched for 
a favorable moment in which to make a dash for 
the companionway, whence I had emerged. But, 
whether on account of the rapidly increasing gale, 
or a change in the yacht’s course, at every plunge 
she shipped a larger sea than the last. It was plainly 
no longer a matter of escaping a wetting, but of 
escaping being washed overboard. Even as I stood 
watching my opportunity to leap down the steps and 
make a wild dash for the companionway, a giant 
comber broke over the rail, and swept the lower deck 
in a furious torrent which nothing movable could 
withstand. 

Drenched by the spray which drove ominously 
against me, I drew back disheartened. A sense of 
the utter futility of making any unaided attempt at 
escape crept upon me with a significance which was 
not far from actual despair. One such wave as this 
last, if it caught me upon the lower deck, would 
sweep me hundreds of yards from the ship to drown 
without hope of succor, as no small boat, even if suc- 
cessfully launched, could live five minutes in such a 
seething cauldron. Equally useless was it for me 
to attempt to acquaint those upon the bridge with 
my danger, by calling. We were headed directly 


48 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

into the teeth of the gale, and no human voice could 
penetrate the deafening roar of the tempest. 

My only hope seemed to lie in attracting the at- 
tention of those below, either by constant and sys- 
tematic knocking which could be distinguished from 
the other noises of the storm, or by breaking one of 
the small prism lights in the deck and calling through 
the aperture. The latter plan appeared to be most 
promising of quick results, and turning, I cautiously 
picked my way aft to where a ray of yellow light 
shone through the deck into the surrounding black- 
ness. As I reached the spot a violent lurch of the 
vessel sent me reeling against one of the fixed seats 
in the centre of the deck. And at that moment I 
beheld something that made my heart stand still. 

Upon the seat, closely wrapped in rugs, and with 
her eyes turned calmly upon me, lay Sibyl ! 

I know not whether the darkness actually hid my 
features, or whether she simply chose not to recog- 
nize them, or to read in them the anguish that must 
have been plainly written there. But in a voice 
which was free from the slightest trace of alarm, 
she inquired : “ Is that you, Val? ” 

For the moment I was stung by the significance 
of the question. But the next instant I had forgot- 


The Storm 


49 


ten it in the fever of my anxiety. “ Sibyl! ” I cried. 
“ Do you not realize the danger to which you have 
exposed yourself by remaining here? ” 

A faint exclamatory “ oh ! ” was the only re- 
sponse, while the wraps were hastily readjusted and 
the white face disappeared completely. 

Despite the dire and imminent peril of our posi- 
tion, I have a clear recollection of the impression 
which this movement of Sibyl’s made upon me. I 
saw in her the same reckless, impulsive, and some- 
what petulant child that I had always known — a girl 
of outward serenity, but, withal, timid and naive* 
I realized, then, that there had been no change ; and, 
at once, the mystery that had enshrouded her that 
afternoon dropped from her like a mantle, leaving 
an undisguised and simple girl for me to control. 

But ere I could utter a word of counsel the deck 
seemed to sink from under my feet. There was a 
sickening sensation of falling. I reeled and clutched 
wildly at the seat, to save myself from being precip- 
itated headlong down the steeply inclined and slip- 
pery boards. And then, in one swift and terrible 
glance, I saw that we were in the trough of a gigan- 
tic sea, which towered mountain-like into the dark- 
ness and came upon us with the stealthy quickness of 


50 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

inevitable destruction, curving over the vessel about 
to engulf us in its prodigious mass. 

There was a moment of ominous silence, a period 
of deathlike stillness, though I can distinctly recall 
having heard the shrieking of the wind over the tops 
of the waves far above us, and the wild cry of a 
bird, as it were from another world. To me, during 
that frightful suspense, it sounded like the saluta- 
tory call of Death. . . I felt that the great here- 
after was at hand ; that we were living our last mo- 
ments ; that the scream which Sibyl gave as she fran- 
ticly endeavored to rise, was the last that I should 
ever hear of her voice. 

It is strange how active is the brain at such mo- 
ments of dire peril. I had time to mentally record 
all these things, and yet make every effort to pre- 
serve our lives, in the few seconds that remained. 

Before Sibyl could disentangle herself from her 
wraps I had thrown myself upon her, pinioning her 
down with my arms around the seat, to which I 
clung with the sheer strength of grim despair. The 
deafening roar which followed, as the mountain of 
water fell upon us, the crushing blow and frightful 
pressure, the sudden lurch of the vessel, the mad 
fury of the seething water about my ears, the awful 


The Storm 


51 


sense of suffocation, the desperate struggle for 
breath, the excruciating agony of drawing water 
into my lungs, and, finally, the despair and blackness 
that rushed in upon me — all were like the horrible 
experiences of a fantastic dream, and seemed to be 
the act of some demoniacal monster of the sea, 
rather than of that element itself. 

When I came to my senses I was upon my knees, 
clutching the seat upon which Sibyl lay motionless 
with the grip of a vise, my arms still around her and 
my head resting upon the unconscious girl’s shoul- 
der. It was evident that I had lost consciousness, 
but only for a few moments, for the water upon the 
deck was still a foot deep, and eddied around my 
knees as it rapidly drained back into the ocean. 

The first fear that assailed me as my faculties re- 
turned, was that Sibyl had been killed. But as I 
anxiously bent closer to the beautiful white face, 
framed in a mass of streaming hair, the lips parted 
in a heavy sigh. 

“ Sibyl ! ” I cried eagerly, grasping her cold 
hands. Sibyl!” 

I raised the slender fingers to my lips reverently, 
as I observed that there was no further sign of re- 
turning animation. And, fearing to lose another 


52 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


moment in our perilous position, I stamped fran- 
ticly upon the deck-light with my heel. But all 
my efforts to smash the thick glass were in vain. I 
might better have saved my strength for the hazard- 
ous task before me ; for when, through sheer exhaus- 
tion, I desisted, I heard voices calling loudly and in 
chorus. These were borne to me on the wind, at 
times sounding very distinct and exceedingly near, 
and again dying away to a faint murmur. 

Whether as a result of my vigorous stamping 
upon the deck, or the not improbable event of our 
absence having been noticed, I knew that help was 
at hand, and that everything possible would be done 
to rescue us from our plight. The first thing to be 
done, however, and that without loss of time, was 
to reveal myself to those forward. Raising the limp 
form of Sibyl in my arms, I edged along the heav- 
ing and slippery deck, now stopping and clinging to 
a seat or ventilator as the vessel rolled to a dan- 
gerous angle, and now taking a few steps forward, 
fearful lest at any moment another comber should 
break over the deck and wash us both overboard, or 
separate me from my precious burden. But, at last, 
after what seemed to be hours of constant exposure 
to death, I reached the steps leading down to the 


The Storm 


53 


lower deck. I could go no further, but here, at least, 
we were in view of our rescuers. 

Three figures stood upon the forward deck in the 
partial shelter afforded by the deck-house, and from 
their movements it soon became evident that they 
had not yet discovered our whereabouts. Resting 
my burden against my shoulder and clinging to the 
rail with both hands, I shouted at the top of my 
lungs. But if I had been facing a solid wall of 
masonry, the results could not have been less. My 
cries were beaten back by the fury of the wind, and 
soon I ceased shouting from sheer lack of breath, 
only to see the three figures disappear into the saloon 
companionway. 

I think that this apparent abandonment of our 
cause was the most severe moral blow that I have 
ever received. The sight unmanned me. I ground 
my teeth in impotent rage, cursing with a separate 
execration each man on board the yacht. Nor did 
my madness cease at this extreme. Pressing the 
limp form of Sibyl to my breast in a paroxysm of 
passionate emotion, I addressed the unconscious girl 
in terms of the tenderest endearment. I declaimed 
my love for her with flagrant extravagance, vowing 
that I preferred death in her arms to life without 


54 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

her — that rather than we should be torn asunder, I 
would perish with her — that I had always loved her, 
and that as our union was denied us in life, she 
should be mine in death. . . 

Thus I blurted on, my ranting providentially fall- 
ing upon unhearing ears. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE RESCUE. 

To what further extremes of indiscretion I might 
have committed myself there is no telling, had my 
madness not been as suddenly stayed as it was pro- 
voked by the reappearance of the three figures car- 
rying lights, a rope, and what appeared to be a life- 
buoy. By the light of their lanterns I could see that 
our rescuers were Captain Watterson, the mate, and 
Lesears. There could no longer be any doubt that 
we had been descried in the darkness, and that a 
desperate attempt to rescue us was about to be made. 

Several times the three men were obliged to beat 
a hasty retreat into the shelter of the companionway, 
as a wave broke over the bows and inundated the 
deck upon which they stood. Nor was my position 
upon the higher deck any less perilous ; for although 
I was safe from the water that was shipped at the 
bows, I had just cause to tremble lest another cross- 
sea should board the after part of the vessel. But, 
55 


56 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

finally, the stalwart figure of Captain Watterson, 
whom I recognized by his sou’wester and oilskins, 
sprang out upon the deck and, with one dextrous 
swing of the arm, sent a line singing directly over 
my head. As it fell I grasped it with my free hand 
ere it could slide from me. It was a mere cord, and 
realizing what was expected of me I hauled upon it 
franticly, using my foot to hold the line while I took 
a fresh grip with my hand. Laboring like one pos- 
sessed, I soon had the satisfaction of grasping a rope 
stout enough to bear the combined weight of Sibyl 
and myself. 

It is singular how, at a crisis, human emotions 
will often swing from one extreme to the other. 
Despite the profound depth of despair into which I 
had lately sunk, and the grave danger which yet con- 
fronted us, I was filled with the wildest confidence 
as I secured the rope around a stanchion of the rail. 
I felt that our deliverance was assured, and in the 
exuberance of my premature exultation, I foolishly 
pictured my rival’s discomfiture when I reached 
safety with the unconscious form of Sibyl in my 
arms. 

So inordinate was my desire for this dramatic 
scene, that the appearance of Captain Watterson 


The Rescue 


57 


cautiously approaching along the wave-swept deck, 
only filled me with resentment at what I considered 
a most uncalled for interference with my plans. I 
motioned him to return, I shouted at the top of my 
lungs, but he paid no heed. It was a perilous under- 
taking, and only attempted at the imminent risk of 
being torn from the rope by a heavy sea, or dashed to 
death against the steel superstructure. But neither 
of these catastrophes occurred, and if the man had 
borne a charmed life he could not have made the 
hazardous passage with greater ease and safety. 
Had it been otherwise — had I witnessed the gallant 
Captain struggling helplessly against an overwhelm- 
ing column of water, I fancy that my vanity would 
have succumbed to better judgment. As it was, 
however, I held to my determination not to sur- 
render my charge; and no sooner had the Captain 
mounted to the after-deck than I acquainted him 
with my intention, doing so by gesture, our voices 
being lost in the shrieking of the hurricane. 

Much to my surprise, the master mariner made no 
attempt to dissuade me from my purpose, but, in- 
stead, whipped off his oilskins and sou’wester, and 
insisted upon my putting them on. I did not hesi- 
tate to comply, as Sibyl wore a heavy mackintosh 


58 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

with a hood, and I observed that Captain Watterson 
had on a warm pea-jacket and high sea-boots. More- 
over, my thin evening suit in its saturated condition 
felt like paper before such a wind, and I realized 
that in my benumbed state the oilskins and sou’- 
wester were a much needed acquisition. Having, 
therefore, donned the Captain’s outer garments, the 
gallant skipper unfastened the rope from the stan- 
chion, and passing it through the life-buoy he had 
brought, slipped the latter over Sibyl. He then 
bound us securely together by means of the light 
cord, leaving my hands free to grasp the guide-rope, 
and making it impossible for Sibyl to be wrenched 
from me. 

Thus we were ready for the perilous trip ; and it 
was not until we had actually started that I realized 
why the brave mariner had elected to remain behind, 
and had trusted me with the responsibility of Sibyl. 
With one hand he tore out of the rotten wood the 
stanchion to which I had fastened the rope. There 
was no other means of securing the life-line along 
which I must go hand over hand, and grasping the 
end of it, he squared himself for the strain. It was 
undoubtedly the knowledge of this danger that had 
brought him to the after-deck, risking his life on a 


The Rescue 


59 


rope which he knew would not have held his weight 
had he been caught by a sea. 

The thought of the dire peril to which this man of 
iron had exposed himself, the knowledge that it was 
almost certain death to attempt to return with 
merely a loose rope tied about his waist, brought me 
suddenly to my senses. I realized my conceit, the 
abject selfishness with which I had accepted his plan 
of rescue without a word of protest. I was but a 
dozen feet from the after-deck and, forgetting my 
helplessness, I paused with the wild idea of return- 
ing to him the life-buoy. But at that instant there 
came a mighty roar, far deeper and more sinister 
than the howling of the wind through the rigging 
above me, and, clinging desperately to the rope 
with my burden, I was caught up and tossed like a 
cork upon the crest of a rushing maelstrom, which 
threatened to tear me from the life-line, or dash us 
to death against the superstructure. My greatest 
concern was for the unconscious girl at my side, who 
was incapable of making any resistance against the 
water. Franticly I fought to keep our heads above 
the surface, death staring me in the face. 

It seemed to me that I struggled for an entire life- 
time in that mad torrent, my senses ever growing 


60 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


duller, my resistance feebler. And when, at length, 
I felt the deck once more under my feet, it was with 
the strength of desperation alone that I managed to 
stagger with my burden into the zone of safety. 

Some one reached out and clutched my arm, drag- 
ging me into the shelter of the saloon companion- 
way. It was Colonel Cavashaw, his face white and 
drawn with intense anxiety. Never before had I 
seen him thus, or, indeed, even serious, and the 
sight shocked me. 

“ God bless you, my boy ! ” he exclaimed fer- 
vently. “ I would have met you half way, had I 
known it was you — I thought it was Watterson in 
that rig ! ” 

He severed the cord that bound Sibyl to me, and 
took her drooping form from my benumbed arms. 
I have a vague recollection of his calling to some 
one to assist him down the stairs with the uncon- 
cious girl — of her streaming wet hair and white face 
— of her eyes suddenly opening and staring at me 
vacantly as they bore her away. And then I felt a 
sharp thud upon the back, and realized that I had 
collapsed and fallen in a heap at the top of the stairs. 

I felt ashamed of the occurrence and was heartily 
glad that no one had witnessed it. Pulling myself 


The Rescue 


61 


together I sat in the open doorway feeling deathly 
sick. A cold perspiration had broken out upon me, 
and I made a feeble effort to raise the sou’wester 
that I might feel the air on my brow — but failed 
miserably. I fought against an encroaching black- 
ness, a whirling sensation, and a dryness in my 
mouth and throat. I had never fainted in my life, 
but I realized that I was now upon the verge of it. 

Then, suddenly, I heard some one on the deck, 
not more than a dozen feet from where I sat, give a 
violent oath. It was uttered in the fierce snarl of a 
beast, rather than a human voice ; and immediately, 
from out of the roaring tempest, came a cry. It was 
not a shrill cry, coming as it did from away out on 
the foaming crest of a heaving sea, but I knew it to 
be Captain Watterson’s, and the sound of it froze 
the very blood in my veins. — It was the frightful 
cry of a soul plunging into Eternity! 

With the sickening knowledge at my heart that 
murder was being committed I struggled to my feet, 
only to be thrust roughly aside by the mate, who 
inquired of me where the Colonel could be found 
and disappeared below before I could answer or 
detain him. Rushing out on deck I collided violently 
with Lesears who was also headed for the com- 


62 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

panionway. Despite the darkness I instantly recog- 
nized him; but before I could give utterance to a 
word he grasped my arm, crying : “ Captain, 

we’ve lost Carlton ! He’s gone for good ! The line 
snapped and 

“ Good God ! ” he gasped, backing from me in 
horror as he recognized my features under the Cap- 
tain’s sou’wester. 

“ Lesears ! ” I cried, making a leap at him, “ you 
shall answer for this ! ” I clutched him by the collar 
just as the vessel gave a terrific lurch, and together 
we fell to the wet deck, rolling in a heap to the very 
spot where the jagged end of the rope dangled from 
the rail. One of the lamps hung beside it, and by 
its light I saw plainly where several attempts had 
been made to cut the rope, before the decisive blow 
had been given. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


TREACHERY. 

“ Curse you ! ” muttered Lesears, struggling to 
free himself. “ Where the devil did you come from ? 
Let go, will you, you fool, if you don’t want to be 
washed overboard ! ” 

But in the excitement and horror of the situation 
my exhaustion had left me, and I hung on to him 
with a grimness that was sustained by the firm con- 
viction that murder had been committed, and the 
determination to know who the murderer was. The 
fall had winded me, however, and for the moment 
I was unable to reply — a circumstance which 
Lesears, having recovered from his first surprise, 
endeavored to turn to good account, by giving me 
an exhibition of his remarkable versatility and self- 
control. 

“ You must pardon me for my somewhat hasty 
temper, o’man,” he said with his characteristic 
drawl. “ But, hang it y’know, you’re so deucedly 
precipitant ! ” 


63 


64 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

I lay as we had finished our roll across the deck — ■ 
upon my back with Lesears on top of me. But I 
paid no heed to his attempted reconciliation. 

“ Who cut that rope? ” I demanded, seizing the 
end of it and shaking it in his face. 

“ Really now, o’man, what a devil of a question to 

ask! One would think that ” 

“ Who cut that rope? ” I repeated. 

“ Why, it broke, of course ! ” 

“ You are a liar! Which one of you cut that 
rope?” 

“ It broke, I tell you ! Don’t be a fool, Carlton ! 

You know me better than ” 

“ Yes, better than to think that you would hesi- 
tate at the foulest murder to attain your ends ! ” 

A short but fierce struggle ensued, which had the 
effect of bringing me uppermost. 

“ Lesears ! ” I cried, seizing him by the throat, 

“ tell me who cut that rope, or ” 

But the threat remained unuttered, for at that in- 
stant I heard a faint cry, and, looking up, discerned 
a dark object clinging to the rail. The next moment 
the rail was completely submerged, as the vessel 
rolled heavily into the trough of a sea. But still the 
object clung there. Springing to my feet and crying 


Treachery- 


65 


to Lesears for help, I rushed along the deck and 
found Captain Watterson with his feet through the 
lower rail and his arms wound around a davit, too 
feeble to climb any further. It was the work of but 
a moment to drag the half-drowned man to safety, 
Lesears working even more franticly than myself. 

It seemed as though my late antagonist had 
become utterly distraught by the sudden turn of 
events. And, in truth, it enough resembled an 
actual resurrection of the dead, to strike terror into 
any cowardly heart and guilty conscience. But I 
felt no compassion for him; I could entertain no 
consideration for whatever feelings he possessed at 
this time. The Captain’s life had been spared by 
nothing short of a miracle. lie was a strong man 
and a powerful swimmer, but not one in a thousand 
powerful swimmers could have hoped to come out 
of the fury of that sea alive. 

We had reached the companion way with our bur- 
den when Lesears suddenly released his hold upon 
the helpless skipper, allowing his feet to drop to the 
deck. Fearing that the treacherous fellow was 
about to desert me, I clutched him by the arm, and 
for a moment we stood glaring at each other. We 
were both strung to the highest pitch of nervous 


66 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

tension; hatred and fear blazed in his eyes, while, 
for my part, I was beside myself with rage ; and but 
for the timely arrival of the Colonel and two sailors, 
there is no telling what shocking scene might have 
been enacted over the prostrate figure upon the deck. 

With the greatest tenderness the men carried 
their injured captain below, the Colonel, Lesears, 
and I silently following. Our host asked no ques- 
tions, but, for the first time in our long acquaint- 
ance, I saw that his brow was knit in a deep frown. 

I did not accompany them to the Coloners state- 
room, whither the Captain was conveyed. It was 
useless for me to attempt to speak to my host while 
Lesears was present, and I had no fear of what the 
latter might say in my absence. I had been ac- 
quainted with the Colonel too long not to know that 
he suspected foul play, and that I would be the first 
one, if not the only one, whom he consulted. More- 
over, I began to feel the effects of my own experi- 
ence with the sea, and wished for nothing better 
than to climb into my bunk and sleep until the morn- 
ing. I therefore turned toward my stateroom, de- 
termined to leave until the morrow the solution of 
the vexing problems that confronted me. 

In the passage I encountered Miss Ashleigh, who 


Treachery 


67 


was on her way to render what assistance she could 
to the injured man. I was obliged to convince the 
good lady that I myself was perfectly sound, before 
she would answer my question regarding Sibyl. 

“ Oh, Sibyl is doing nicely — very nicely, thank 
you,” was the reassuring reply. “ At least I think 
so, though of course, my sister, poor dear, is so 
nervous and fears a reaction.” 

“ Has Sibyl recovered consciousness, Miss Ash- 
leigh? ” I inquired anxiously. 

“ Oh, yes, indeed ! She knows that you carried 
her from the after-deck. She is sure that she was 
conscious even before Captain Watterson arrived, 
in fact. The poor child’s mind is just filled with the 
awful affair. But I must hurry to see if there is 
nothing I can do ” 

“ Miss Ashleigh,” I said, striving not to show the 
consternation which her words had caused me, 
“ may I detain you a moment longer ? Are you sure 
that Miss Cavashaw meant that she was conscious 
before the Captain arrived on the after-deck ? ” 
“She says so. But then, you know, she was so 
very weak — so very weak, poor dear ! ” 

And with this the estimable lady hurried away 
upon her mission of mercy, leaving me with the 


68 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

painful consciousness that I was a brute for having 
thus detained her. Nor did the thought that Sibyl 
might have heard my ravings upon the after-deck, 
act as a balm to my feelings in the matter. I real- 
ized that I had paid dearly for my untimely inquisi- 
tiveness. 

Entering my room, I summoned the cabin-boy 
and questioned him on the prospect of getting some- 
thing to eat: the unpretentiousness of the Colonel, 
with regard to a crew, requiring this dignitary to 
act also in the capacity of steward. 

“ I wasn’t after forgetting you, sir — I thought to 
keep some dinner ’ot,” the lad responded, his face 
looking, if possible, a trifle paler than usual, and 
lacking the grin that habitually accompanied speech. 

“ Thank you, Spike,” said I. “ I’ll have it in my 
room. And you may bring me some hot water and 
a little sugar, at once.” 

“ Yessir.” 

And he was gone instantly, to return with unusual 
alacrity, slipping so silently into the room as I was 
pulling off my wet clothes, that I gave a start at 
beholding him in the mirror. There was something 
about the slim, pale-faced lad that made me glance 
at him a second time, but he had gone again before 


Treachery 69 

I thought of questioning him. And by the time I 
had mixed myself a hot drink, and taken the nearest 
approach to a bath that was possible with the yacht 
plunging and careening in the gale, he had returned 
with my dinner, and stood ready to serve me. 

It was quite evident that the lad had something 
upon his mind, and it occurred to me, as I watched 
him glancing timidly about the room, that the Cap- 
tain’s fate had made a deep impression upon him. 
Just exactly how it had impressed him I was rather 
curious to know, for I realized that Captain Watter- 
son was more feared than loved by the crew, being, 
as the Colonel had said, a strict disciplinarian. 

“ ’E was pretty ’ard on us, sir, was Cap’n Watter- 
son,” the boy confessed in response to a question of 
mine, “ but we’d rather it ’adn’t ’appened for all 
that. Bill and Sam, as is two of the sailors, sir, and 
Jake, wot shovels coal, they all says as ’ow the 
Cap’n’s going overboard is a bad sign.” 

“ It is a bad sign, indeed ! ” I said, quite mistaking 
the boy’s meaning. 

“ They says so, sir, and they’re the ones as ought 
to know. They says the ship’s goin’ to the bottom, 
dead certain, sir. Bill says ’e saw the rats jump 
overboard right after the Cap’n was carried below, 


70 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


an’ rats/ll always quit a sinking ship, yer know, 
sir.” 

“ That’s rubbish, pure and simple, Spike,” I said 
reassuringly. “ We are not sinking, nor are we go- 
ing to sink. The injury to the Captain is greatly to 
be deplored, and we will hope that it is not serious 
for the sake of all on board, as well as for his own 
sake ; but you must not look upon the affair in that 
absurd light.” 

“ Beggin’ yer pardon, sir, but I’m just tellin’ yer 
wot Bill says, an’ there ain’t nothin’ wot Bill don’t 
know about the sea. Bill says ’e was on a ship onced 
as ’ad a Cap’n wot was a Jonah, an’ ’e got washed 
overboard, just the same as the Cap’n did. 

“ And Sam sits up in ’is bunk and ’oilers — just to 
frighten me like — ‘ And yer should ’ave seen ’ow 
them rats quit that ship, Spike ! They was a fighting 
of one another in their ’urry to jump overboard.’ 

“ ‘ Naw they wusn’t,’ says Bill. * Quit yer lying to 
the kid, Sam. Nary a rat was lost off that ship, 
’cause we didn’t ’aul the old man aboard agin. . .’ ” 

“ So that is why rats jump overboard, is it? ” I 
exclaimed in surprise, eyeing my youthful informant 
fixedly. “ See here, my boy,” I said impressively, 
“ you keep your ears open for anything else of that 


Treachery 71 

nature, and let me know of it, and I’ll make you a 
handsome present.” 

But ere the lad could respond, the voice of Bill 
himself asserted itself from the other side of the 
door : “ ’Ere, kid, shut up and come out o’ that — 
yer wanted ! ” he snarled. 

I was about to remonstrate at the man’s im- 
pertinence, but, upon second thought, I resumed 
my seat. 

“ Stay where you are, my boy,” I commanded, in 
tones loud enough to be heard by the eavesdropper. 
And after the sailor had shuffled off down the pas- 
sage, I again warned the youth to be on the alert for 
any fresh information, and having finished my din- 
ner, dismissed him. 

I did not take the affair seriously at the time, feel- 
ing sure that there was nothing more at the bottom 
of it all than a sailor’s well-known superstitions and 
his love for yarns. Indeed, I soon forgot all about 
the incident and turned in for the night, weary of 
spirit and sore of limb. 


CHAPTER IX. 


A MIDNIGHT VISITOR. 

An hour later I was awakened by a persistent 
scratching on the door, which, in my dreams, I had 
for some time satisfactorily attributed to a noise 
suddenly developed by my motor-car. 

“ Carlton ! ” came a sharp whisper, “ wake up, 
man, — wake up ! ” 

Springing from my bunk, I unfastened the door 
and stood blinking owlishly at the figure of the 
Colonel clad in dripping oilskins. 

“ I can’t take ’em off,” he said, shaking himself in 
the passage and stepping into the room. “ If that 
scoundrel Swenaldi knew I was here, he’d get sus- 
picious at once. I’ll have to show myself on the 
bridge again before I turn in, just to ease his mind.” 

“ I’ve been wanting to have a word with you 
about that man, myself,” I replied. “ But how is 
the Captain? ” 

“ Poor Watterson ! He’s an old man, you know, 
72 


A Midnight Visitor 


73 


Carlton, and I’m afraid the experience has proved 
too much for him.” 

“ Not dangerously ill, I hope? ” 

“ No, no ! In fact, he does not seem to suffer at 
all — simply listless, as if it has taken it all out of 

him. I’d wager my ” He broke off abruptly, 

throwing his sou’wester down on the table with an 
energy that was clearly in emphasis of his unspoken 
convictions. 

“ Have you got a drop of brandy ? ” he asked 
with a sudden shiver. “ I gave Watterson all I had, 
and the rest of the stuff is locked up in the saloon. 
It would be as much as our lives are worth to go 
near it now — the whole crew have got their weather- 
eye on the place.” 

“ How will Bourbon do ? ” I asked, handing him 
a flask. 

“ Better than nothing, my boy. I’ve been in a 
sixty-mile draught on that confounded bridge for 
nigh unto an hour, and I need something to put life 
into me.” 

He helped himself generously. Then, turning to 
me with a grave countenance, he placed a hand upon 
my shoulder. 

“ Carlton,” he said, “ this is a bad piece of busi- 


74 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

ness. Poor Watterson’s case is dead wrong — dead 
wrong, I tell you ! ” 

“ I agree with you there,” said I. “ That there 
was foul play in it, I am willing to take my oath; 
equally certain am I that his would-be murderer was 
one of ” 

“ Sh — ! Not so loud!” exclaimed the Colonel, 
holding up a warning hand. “ I know it, I know it ! 
But we cannot be too cautious in the way we go 
about this affair. If that man Swenaldi gets wind 
of our suspicions, he’ll make matters twice as bad 
as they already are.” 

“ If I had my way,” said I vehemently, “ I’d put 
the fellow in irons at once ! ” 

“ And then sit down and enjoy the pleasure of 
being adrift on a derelict in mid-ocean, eh? ” 

“ Why so ? Have we not the crew to work the 
ship?” 

“We wouldn’t have, if we acted upon your ad- 
vice, my boy. The crew are on the point of 
mutinying, as it is. They want their rum, and if we 
were to dispose of our only excuse for not giving 
it to ’em — well, they’d demand it in short order 1 ” 

“ But with the mate under lock and key, I can 
see no harm in giving them their grog.” 


A Midnight Visitor 


75 


“ Ah ! my dear boy, that is just where you en- 
tirely fail to perceive the crux of our predicament. 
We are between the devil and the deep sea in a most 
uncomfortably literal sense. Rum, with authority, 
is bad enough, but in the absence of all the authority 
a seaman recognizes, where do you expect we’d be ? 
No, Carlton, we must play one side against the 
other, like so many chessmen. The seamen have a 
wholesome respect for the mate, consequently we 
must keep the mate in his place, if only as an empty 
symbol of authority, until we reach port — when 
Mr. Swenaldi will be handed over to the police.” 

“ Yes,” I admitted, “ that all sounds very well, 
and if we were dealing with chessmen, I should feel 
quite sanguine of the outcome. But when, do you 
suppose, we’ll reach port? I should think that, in 
the circumstances, it is not at all improbable that 
the mate will manifest a decided disinclination to go 
anywhere near land — starve us into submission, as 
it were.” 

“ Ah ! but you forget that we are playing the 
crew against that move. They are counting off the 
number of hours to port on their fingers, as it means 
rum to ’em. No, no! The mate realizes that he is 
in hot enough water with the crew, as it is. He 


76 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

daren’t do it, Carlton, that’s where we have 
him!” 

“ But you’ll admit he’s a desperate man ; suppose 
he points out to the crew the advantages of over- 
powering us and securing all the liquor they want — 
not to mention the facility which such an act would 
give to his escape.” 

“ Ah, now you have it, my boy ! ” exclaimed the 
Colonel, patting me upon the back and beaming 
gleefully at his fine sarcasm. “ I see you are still the 
man of deep penetration that I always thought you 
were.” 

“ But, seriously, Colonel, don’t you think that 
there is a danger, if these fellows get their heads 
together, of their taking us on a protracted cruise 
until we feel like accepting their terms ? ” 

“ I do think there is a danger of it, most as- 
suredly, and it is just that danger which I would 
warn you against. But, my dear fellow, the mate 
must have his liberty while we are at sea, or we 
should certainly be taking the protracted cruise you 
mention — with not a man amongst us who can navi- 
gate. What you’ve got to look out for, my lad, is 
that he does not get any idea that we suspect him of 
murder, for while he is kept in ignorance of our sus- 


A Midnight Visitor 


77 


picions there is no reason for him to fraternize with 
the crew. He's just as anxious as they are to reach 
port. Why, man, I’ve just spent an hour with him 
on the bridge, talking in a most confidential manner, 
for no other purpose than to dispel any doubts 
he might have regarding our attitude toward 
him.” 

“ And do you think that you succeeded, Col- 
onel ? ” I asked, calling to mind the proverb of the 
guilty conscience. 

“ Never more certain of anything in my life ! He 
actually asked if we might not touch at San Juan 
to-morrow morning. Said it would only be an hour 
to the west of us at six o’clock.” 

“ And you consented, of course? ” 

“ Absolutely not ! I prefer to reach our destina- 
tion before handing my only officer over to the civil 
authorities. Laughed him out of it, you know. 
Asked him what difference a day or so made, and 
told him he’d have all the shore life he wanted at 
Barbados.” 

The Colonel was chuckling over the recollec- 
tion of his little joke, when I held up a warning 
finger. 

“ Some one is at the door ! ” I whispered ; and 


78 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

with a quick movement I threw it open, revealing 
the cabin-boy in a crouching attitude upon the sill. 

“ Beggin’ yer pardon, sir, but yer told me as I 
must report anything I ’eard," the lad stammered i» 
confusion. 

“ Well, and what did you hear? ” I asked, recall- 
ing my injunction to him at dinner. 

“ Nothin', sir; but I just thought as ’ow I’d tell 
yer." And touching his forelock he disappeared 
with surprising alacrity. 

“ That boy was eavesdropping ! " exclaimed the 
Colonel vehemently. “ Call him back, Carlton, and 
I'll put him under lock and key for the night ! ’’ 

“ No, it's all right," I said reassuringly. “ The 
lad spoke the truth. I told him to keep his ears open 
for anything that would be of interest to us, and to 
report it to me." 

“ Yes, and Swenaldi has ordered him to do the 
same thing ! Why, in thunder, didn’t you grab the 
young rascal! He had his ears open outside that 
door, you take my word for it, and he’s on his way 
now to tell the mate all we’ve said." 

“ I think you are wrong, Colonel," said I. “ But, 
in any case, you are going up to the bridge before 
you turn in, aren’t you? ’’ 


A Midnight Visitor 


79 


“ Yes, and I’ll bet a hundred C. L. R. that I 
catch ’em with their heads together,” he replied, 
taking his departure immediately. 

“ Let me know if you do,” I laughed, “ for in 
that case it might be as well to barricade ourselves in 
the saloon, and prime our flintlocks.” 

But my host did not return ; and I smiled to my- 
self when, ten minutes later, I heard him enter his 
room after giving orders to the boy to call him at 
seven o’clock. 


CHAPTER X. 


AN UNWELCOME DISCOVERY. 

When I awoke the following morning my atti- 
tude toward Lesears, if not exactly conciliatory, was 
certainly modified. I realized that I had judged 
him too hastily ; that my action was not only foolish, 
but plainly the product of malice. It was undeni- 
ably my distrust of the Colonel’s guest that had led 
me to suspect him, and so rashly to accuse him. The 
mate was open to just the same suspicion. It is 
true that Lesears, by his own words when he col- 
lided with me upon deck, had placed beyond doubt 
the fact that he thought I was the one who had been 
cast to the tender mercies of the sea. But it is 
equally true that the mate had known better. He 
had passed me in the lighted companionway, and 
had thrust me aside with a mere question — a man- 
ner of treatment which he certainly would not 
have been guilty of had he thought I was Captain 
Watterson. And if it could be said that Lesears had 
80 


An Unwelcome Discovery 81 

any reason to wish me out of the way, it would also 
have to be admitted that the mate had just as much 
reason to want the Captain disposed of. 

Looking at it in this light — which was merely 
that of calm and impartial judgment — not only 
placed suspicion as strongly on the mate as on 
Lesears, but also made it evident that the two men 
had not confided in each other at the time the rope 
was cut. Thus, if the mate had committed the act, 
he had done it knowing that the Captain’s life was at 
stake, and Lesears had let the crime pass unnoticed, 
thinking that my life would be forfeited; and vice 
versa. It was easy to see why Lesears had made an 
effort at reconciliation upon learning his mistake. 
His quick perception had told him that inasmuch 
as it was the Captain who had been the victim, sus- 
picion would naturally rest upon the mate. And, 
indeed, I now realized that as I had no witness to 
the error which Lesears had made in my identity, 
it would be useless to attempt to fasten the crime 
upon him. 

Thus reflecting, I dressed and went up on deck, 
determined to await developments before taking 
further action. A remarkable change in the weather 
had occurred. The sea was almost glassy and in- 


82 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


tensely blue, reflecting a cloudless sky from which 
the sun blazed fiercely. Sullenly we forged ahead 
in the molten sea, an impressive silence reigning 
over all, as though the very vessel itself was pros- 
trated by the sudden heat. It did not require a 
nautical eye to see that we were in the tropics; in- 
deed, the short but fierce storm of the previous even- 
ing was typical of the region. 

For a while I thought that there was not a ship 
in sight — not another sign of life on the wide ex- 
panse of ocean that stretched all around me. But 
soon I discovered a small object, far away upon 
what I took to be the northern horizon. A mere 
speck it was, lying dead astern of us and showing 
black against the sky. It was something of a relief 
from the monotony of an unbroken horizon to see 
even this mysterious object, and I stood gazing at 
it and speculating the manner of craft it was, until 
the impression grew upon me that it was much later 
in the day than I had at first imagined. I turned and 
looked at the sun. It was fairly high, and directly 
ahead of us — the exact position that it occupied at 
noon when we were in northern waters. I omitted 
to allow for the fact that at noon, in our present 
latitude, the sun would be almost directly over- 


An Unwelcome Discovery 83 

head, and jumped at the conclusion that it was mid- 
day. 

This discovery gave me quite a shock. My watch 
had stopped the previous evening upon being sub- 
merged; but as no one was astir about the vessel 
when I left my stateroom, I had naturally supposed 
that it was very early in the morning. Was it pos- 
sible that we all had overslept ? The Colonel would 
hardly be guilty of such a thing — and yet, I dis- 
tinctly recalled having heard him snoring lustily 
as I passed his door. 

Thoroughly perplexed, I turned and walked to- 
ward the bridge in order to satisfy my not unnatural 
curiosity. My intention was to inquire the hour, 
but not seeing the mate, I paused with my foot upon 
the ladder undetermined how to proceed. I had no 
desire to encounter Mr. Swenaldi upon his own 
ground, especially as it was well known to that 
worthy gentleman that, to me, it was forbidden 
ground ; and I realized that possibly he was shelter- 
ing from the sun in the wheel-house. On the other 
hand, if the mate had actually left his post in the 
absence of both the Captain and his employer, I 
wanted to learn the full facts from the man at the 
wheel. I felt that, in all probability, Swenaldi was 


84 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


drunk again. If this was so, I should be in pos- 
session of a very significant fact — that Lesears had 
been in communication with the mate since the das- 
tardly act of the night before. 

After some deliberation, I called the mate’s name 
several times, but receiving no response I boldly 
ascended the steps and walked over to the wheel- 
house . — ■ Not a soul was within ! 

It was several moments before I realized the full 
significance of the situation — that the yacht was 
forging blindly ahead, and that the man who had 
forsaken his place at the wheel, had done so at the 
imminent peril of all on board. Had a ship or dere- 
lict been in our path, we must inevitably have run 
into it head on, with not the slightest warning from 
the drunken crew in the forecastle. There was not 
the least doubt in my mind that the crew were 
drunk. It was quite obvious that they had taken 
advantage of the Captain’s disability and, in all 
probability, of the mate’s drunkenness, to make up 
for their enforced abstinence in a mad debauch. 
If I had not before realized the tremendous alluring 
power which rum exerted over these men, I was 
now overwhelmed by the tragic force with which 
the abhorrent fact was here presented to me. How 


An Unwelcome Discovery 85 

they had secured the liquor I could not conceive; 
unless, indeed, the mate had provided it with the 
hope of winning their favor by celebrating his newly 
acquired dignity as commander. 

But there was no time to dwell upon this phase 
of the outrageous situation. A glance had shown 
me that the wheel was chained to the post, so that 
the vessel would keep on a straight course. Spring- 
ing to the telegraph, I pulled up the lever until the 
pointer upon the dial indicated the word ST OP, and 
the next instant I was leaping down the ladder two 
steps at a time. 

I have no distinct recollection, at this time, of 
what my object was in not immediately notifying 
the Colonel. I rather think that it was my wish not 
to alarm him unnecessarily, until, at least, I had 
made an effort to arouse the mate to a sense of duty. 
But whatever the reason, it was soon forgotten in 
the excitement which followed ; and it was not until 
half an hour later that I acquainted the owner of 
the yacht with the unwelcome facts. 

From the bridge I went straight to Swenaldi’s 
quarters, only to make the discovery that the mate 
was not there. His cabin was in a state of the 
wildest disorder, however, and gave every indica- 


86 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

tion that its occupant had been drinking heavily. 
Torn papers, cigar stumps, and empty bottles lit- 
tered the floor, while the atmosphere of the room 
reeked with the odious combination of stale tobacco 
smoke and whiskey. 

Thinking that, in the process of the debauch, he 
had mingled with the crew, I next visited the fore- 
castle. As I descended the steps leading down into 
the gloomy and evil smelling den, I was conscious of 
an unusual stillness, and so uncanny was it that the 
soft rubbing of the cat around my legs, as I reached 
the bottom of the ladder, sufficed to make me start 
back with an exclamation. 

At first I fancied that there was an answering 
voice, which I took to be a drunken remonstrance at 
my intrusion. But, upon advancing into the large 
and dimly lighted room, I found all as still as the 
grave. For some moments I could not see the sur- 
rounding objects, as my eyes were blinded by the 
bright sunlight which I had recently left. And dur- 
ing that tense interval, the silence which had fallen 
about me grew appalling. Even the purring of the 
cat was audible, and mingled uncannily with the 
murmur of the waves as they washed past the cleav- 
ing bows — a murmur which sounded strangely like 


An Unwelcome Discovery 87 

the utterance of a solemn warning. Nor was it long 
before I realized the significance of the sound, which 
was, indeed, a warning, for it could have but one 
meaning — the engine had not been stopped in re- 
sponse to my signal from the bridge ! 

It was then that I awoke to a full comprehension 
of the almost incredible facts, for when, a few mo- 
ments later, I was able to discern the men’s bunks 
on either side of me, I did not experience any sur- 
prise at finding that they were empty. I knew, then, 
that the entire crew had deserted the yacht! They 
had abandoned the vessel in one of the boats, — un- 
doubtedly the naphtha launch, — while we all slept, 
and when Porto Rico was probably but a few miles 
to the west, turning us adrift upon the ocean with- 
out the slightest warning ! 

Leaping up the stairs, I made for the bridge with 
the determination of steering the vessel in pursuit 
of the scoundrels. For I now realized that the small 
object, which I had seen upon the horizon, was none 
other than the fleeing boat. 

“ The fools ! ” I muttered contemptuously. 

“ They were too full of the prospects of rum to 
think of crippling the engine so that we could not 
give chase ! ” 


88 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

But, alas, upon reaching the wheel-house, my eye 
fell upon the compass, and I saw how grossly I had 
misjudged their strategic qualities. In addition to 
chaining the wheel, they had headed the yacht due 
east under a full head of steam, before leaving her; 
and each minute, we were drawing away from them 
at a far greater speed than they were making in the 
opposite direction! The distant object that I had 
seen, therefore, and which had long since disap- 
peared from sight, had been on the western horizon, 
and not on the northern, as I had supposed from its 
position astern of us. Had I paused to look at the 
compass in the wheel-house before going below, I 
would have made the discovery then, instead of now 
— half an hour later. 

We were headed straight across the Atlantic, and 
the wheel was chained and padlocked in such a way 
that it could be freed only by filing through several 
links — a labor which would consume hours! 


CHAPTER XI. 


MY ATTEMPT AT HEROISM. 

It was at this juncture that I realized the imme- 
diate necessity of acquainting the owner of the yacht 
with the untoward facts. Communication was to be 
had with the Coloners stateroom by means of a 
speaking-tube located in the wheel-house; and in a 
very few moments that venerable gentleman was 
jumping into his clothes with an alacrity which 
would have done credit to a fireman. 

But I did not wait for his arrival. Each minute 
was adding distance to the inevitable struggle to 
reach land that must soon follow. Leaping from 
the bridge, I headed for the engine-room, with the 
intention of stopping the engines until the wheel 
could be released and the vessel headed landward. 

It must not be supposed, however, that I was 
happily in possession of a knowledge of marine 
engineering, which made it only necessary for me to 
assume the delinquent officer’s seat, in order to 
89 


90 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

operate the levers with perfect control and desired 
results. On the contrary, if there was one of the 
natural tendencies of my youth which had been 
neglected, nay, even despised, by my early trainers, 
it was the mechanical turn of mind which seized 
upon me at the tender age of thirteen, and threatened 
to frustrate completely my carefully planned career. 
My thoughts were gently, though firmly, led into 
other channels, with the result that the spark of 
what might have been an awakening mechanical 
genius, was successfully stamped out. . . . My 
knowledge of the steam-engine was confined to the 
merest smattering of its most elementary principles. 
To be sure, I had tinkered with the obscure, and 
wholly mysterious, mechanism that lay beneath the 
hood of my motor-car, but results, when any 
were manifested, had been anything but encourag- 
ing. 

Thus my descent into the engine-room was not 
without the accompaniment of the gravest misgiv- 
ings, — a feeling akin to that which one might ex- 
perience upon being thrown into a den of wild 
beasts. Indeed, as I stood and marvelled at the pon- 
derous mass of roaring, hissing, and rotating steel, 
separated from me by a mere hand-rail, it did not 


My Attempt at Heroism 


91 


appear at all unlike some huge monster of fable 
wrought to a fury by my intrusion into its domain. 
Grasping the iron rail from very fear of being 
hurled head foremost into the thundering mechan- 
ism, I came to the conclusion that the controlling 
levers were to be found upon a small platform which 
was situated at the further end of the engine-room. 
Thither I nervously made my way, experiencing no 
little pride at finding that my assumption was evi- 
dently correct, for directly in front of me was a 
telegraph dial corresponding to the one on the 
bridge. 

But, alas, my triumph was short-lived. One 
glance at the floor of the platform told me that, for 
the second time, I had made the foolish error of sup- 
posing that these men had neglected anything that 
would make their escape doubly certain. Every 
lever by which the engine might be controlled had 
been removed! The empty slots at my feet through 
which the levers had worked, and over which ap- 
peared the words : AHEAD; ASTERN; etc., were 
unmistakable evidence of this crowning act of ma- 
lignity. 

For a moment I was completely disheartened at 
this new discovery, which seemed to render us ut- 


92 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

terly helpless and entirely at the mercy of wind and 
wave. And then I was struck by an idea which sent 
me scurrying down a greasy ladder, even deeper 
into the ship’s vitals. 

“ We’ll have the scoundrels yet ! ” I muttered, as 
I caught sight of the furnaces. 

The heat was frightful! It had been quite bad 
enough above, but here, in the stoke-hole, it was in- 
sufferable; and I grimly assigned the job of coal 
shoveling upon our return trip to Lesears, who I 
felt might just as well get accustomed to heat now, 
as at some future date. It did not require the eye of 
an expert to see that each furnace had been loaded 
with coal to its fullest capacity, the draughts having 
been carefully set so as to draw moderately, and in- 
sure a head of steam for several hours. But having 
made my plans, I did not hesitate to carry them out. 
Beginning at the furnace furthest from the exit, I 
threw open all the doors and beat a hasty retreat up 
the ladder, followed by an overwhelming wave of 
superheated air and sulphur fumes. 

Despite the stifling atmosphere, I remained in the 
engine-room until I was able to note the effect of my 
action in the rapidly decreasing speed of the engine. 
It was a triumphant moment! — to feel that I had 



Really, my dear fellah what a mess to be in .” — Page 93 








My Attempt at Heroism 93 

conquered this ponderous mass of rotating steel; to 
see its powerful strokes growing weaker ; to hear its 
defiant roar and hiss die down to a faint sound as 
soft as the whisper of a child. It was a triumphant 
moment, I say, and made none the less so by the 
knowledge that I had outwitted the cunning of the 
wretches who had deserted us. I could not repress 
a feeling of just pride — a sense of the heroic nature 
of my accomplishment, albeit I blushed at the 
thought of hearing it proclaimed as such. 

Modestly I climbed the ladder and, half suffo- 
cated by sulphur fumes, wet with perspiration, and 
covered with coal dust, staggered out on deck to be 
confronted by Sibyl and her fiance, both of whom 
appeared resplendent in immaculate flannels. 

“ Really, my dear fellah ! ” cried the astonished 
Lesears, carefully adjusting his monocle and affect- 
ing the deep concern of one addressing his most 
intimate friend, “what a devil of a mess you appear 
to be in ! ” Then quickly checking himself, and 
bowing with great deference to the young lady at 
his side, he added : “ I most humbly beg your par- 
don, Miss Sibyl, but the sight of our good friend's 
deplorable plight, you know — really ! ” And to me : 
“ Grubbing in the stoke-hole after some dooced mys- 


94 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


tery, I’ll wager my estate — eh, o’man? Reckless 
beggar you are, no end ! ” 

Despite the righteous indignation that swelled 
within my bosom at being thus accosted, I could 
not help but admire the man’s wonderful acting, nor 
fail to perceive the point of humor in the situation. 
At the same time, I realized that the Colonel had not 
made known the true state of affairs, and not wish- 
ing to alarm Sibyl, I met the sally with a careless 
laugh and a similar jeu d’ esprit. 

With this I continued on my way to the bridge, 
the cherished desire to see Lesears shoveling coal 
having developed into a grim determination. 

“ Hello ! ” exclaimed the Colonel in profound 
amazement, as my amiable though coal-begrimed 
face appeared at the top of the ladder. “ What, in 
thunder, have you been doing to yourself, Carl- 
ton?” 

By this time I could but smile feebly. 

“ Looks as though you and Jake, the coal-heaver, 
have been hugging one another. Or, maybe, it was 
just a friendly scrap, eh? You’ve certainly been 
hauled over the coals ! ” 

“ I have neither been hugging nor fighting your 
friend Jake,” I said icily. “ He, with the rest of 



My Attempt at Heroism 95 

your precious crew, is probably drunk in Porto Rico 
by this time.” 

“Gone, has he? Well, well! But you don’t 
mean to tell me that Jim, the engineer, has joined 
’em ? ” 

“ Why, the whole crew has gone ! ” I exclaimed, 
surprised beyond measure at the Colonel’s apparent 
indifference. 

“ Um — you don’t say ! ” Then, after a pause : 
“ Well, so much the better, my boy ! We’re well 
rid of ’em. Did you think to tell mother, while you 
were down there ? ” 

“No,” I replied awkwardly, “ I thought it might 
be better to leave that to you.” 

“ Well, but who’s going to get breakfast 
ready ? ” 

“ My dear Colonel ! ” I cried indignantly, “ you 
surely don’t imagine that I had time to think of 
breakfast ! The wretches carried off all the control 
levers of the engine, and it was as much as I could 
manage to stop the infernal thing by damping the 
fires ! ” 

“ So that’s why we’re losing headway, is it? No 
wonder your parents discouraged that mechanical 
genius of yours, my boy! What on earth put the 


96 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


idea into your head ? Thought we’d stop for meals, 
eh?” 

For answer I folded my arms with a superior 
smile. It was quite evident that my host, with all 
his seafaring experience, had not yet discovered to 
what point of the compass the ship was headed ; and 
I decided to give him ample time in which to see his 
mistake, before making him aware of it and receiv- 
ing his humble apologies. In the meantime, I 
calmly turned my gaze out to sea awaiting his con- 
venience, when, suddenly, I made the startling dis- 
covery that the yacht had been turned about, and 
that we were now headed landward, which was due 
west. The vessel was still under slight headway, so 
it was obvious that we had not drifted around; and 
I had just time to note that the wheel was still 
chained and padlocked, when I heard the Colonel’s 
conciliatory voice at my elbow. 

“ Come, Carlton, my lad,” he observed, “ you 
mustn’t feel badly about it. We can’t expect you to 
be engineer, sailor, and great financier combined, — 
or to know any more about jury-rudders than ladies’ 
hats. And now that you’ve managed to slow us 
down to a real safe gait, we’ll go and have break- 
fast.” 


My Attempt at Heroism 97 

And as we descended from the bridge, I caught 
sight of something which instantly explained the 
Colonel’s reference to jury-rudders. Secured to one 
of the davits at the stern was a long plank, so ar- 
ranged that one end could be lowered and al- 
lowed to meet the resistance of water on either side 
of the vessel. This would naturally have the same 
effect as a rudder, and by its use the yacht had evi- 
dently been brought around. 

So simple and effective was the device, that I 
could not refrain from complimenting the Colonel 
upon his ingenuity, despite the futility of my own 
arduous labor. 


CHAPTER XII. 


A WELCOME DISCOVERY. 

I parted from my host at the saloon entrance, 
and made my way forward. It was, primarily, my 
intention to wash some of the coal dust from my 
face in the mate’s cabin before going to my own 
room, as to reach the latter I was obliged to pass 
through the saloon. But I also had another reason 
for going to the forward part of the vessel. It had 
occurred to me that the faint cry, which I thought I 
had heard upon first entering the forecastle, might 
not have been mere fancy after all. It was quite 
possible that the mate was imprisoned somewhere, 
and that it was his voice I had heard in response to 
my exclamation. 

I had taken it for granted that Swenaldi had de- 
serted the yacht with the rest of the crew. Indeed, 
with the guilt of his crime weighing heavily upon 
him, and the possible knowledge that the Colonel 
suspected him and fully intended to have him placed 
98 


A Welcome Discovery 99 

in the hands of the authorities when we reached 
port, it did not seem at all improbable that the 
mate had actually instigated the abandonment, as 
the surest means of effecting his escape. But I now 
realized that the facts might prove to be otherwise. 
The crew might have overpowered the mate, who 
had tried to interfere in behalf of duty, and im- 
prisoned him before taking their departure, in order 
to prevent him from giving the alarm. If this was 
the case it could be taken as striking proof of Swe- 
naldi’s innocence, and would place Lesears in a cor- 
respondingly bad light. 

I regretted this possibility now that I had come 
to look upon Lesears as an innocent man. I realized 
that I had been prejudiced in my judgment of him; 
that owing to my jealousy I was prone to see only 
the worst side of my rival. My dislike for him had 
arisen from charges which were all of old standing, 
and it was quite likely that he had long since di- 
vorced himself from the past. Indeed, Sibyl was 
the very girl to inspire such resolutions in a man. 
Then, too, his treatment of me had been remarkably 
good-natured and conciliatory, considering my un- 
disguised attitude. 

Thus, the possibility of discovering the mate im- 


100 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

prisoned, or badly injured, cast a gloom over my 
spirits, rather than awakened any appetite for the 
humiliation of my rival. But it was imperative that 
the matter be investigated without further delay, 
and accordingly I descended once more into the 
forecastle. 

“ Hello! ” I shouted, “ is there any one here? ” 

Immediately there was a shuffling sound, followed 
by a bump, then again all was still. 

I repeated my summons, employing a somewhat 
sharper tone, and this time a faint voice issued from 
the floor directly beneath my feet. 

“ Who’s there ? ” it asked. 

Although the voice was scarcely audible, I recog- 
nized it at once, and breathed a genuine sigh of 
relief that it was not the mate’s. 

“ Come up here. Spike, you young villain ! ” I 
cried, pounding upon the floor with my heel by way 
of emphasis. 

“ Yessir,” came the prompt reply, “ but is that 
Mr. Carlton, sir, or is it Mr. Swenaldi, sir?” 

Evidently the boy was not at all certain to whom 
the voice belonged, and perceiving a means thereby 
of learning the facts without resorting to the alto- 
gether doubtful method of putting the lad’s verac- 


A Welcome Discovery 101 

ity to test, I imitated Swenaldi’s voice to the best 
of my ability. 

“ Come ye out o’ that, lad, and be smart about 
it ! I commanded, supplementing my words with 
a few of the mate’s favorite oaths. 

“ Yessir,” came the tremulous response. “ But 
you said as ’ow you’d lick me if I showed myself 
afore you’d gone. I ain’t agoin’ ter squeal, Mr. 
Swenaldi, sir, s’elp me. I ain’t the lad ter split on 
me shipmates, that I ain’t, or wot would I ’ave told 
yer wot the Colonel said last night fer ? ” 

“ That’s all well and good, my boy,” I replied in 
a natural voice, “ but I’m not Mr. Swenaldi, and I 
don’t intend to lick you providing you come out and 
behave yourself. Your friends have gone, so you 
might better come on deck and make yourself use- 
ful, than stay down there with the rats.” 

My words resulted in a considerable shuffling be- 
low, and I fancied that I heard a mumbled ejacula- 
tion, which sounded suspiciously like : “ Gee ! I’ve 
gone and blabbed ter the guy for fair ! ” 

But presently a dirty face, with wild and staring 
eyes, appeared protruding from one of the lockers. 
For a second only it was there, then, as I advanced 
across the forecastle, it was withdrawn precipi- 


102 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


tantly, to the accompaniment of a lively scrambling 
under foot. Nor was it long before I understood 
the meaning of the lad’s strange antics. 

“ Say! who are yer, anyhow? ” he queried from 
his hiding-place. “ Yer not Mr. Carlton with that 
dirty mug, that’s a sure thing ! ” 

“ Yes, I am, Spike,” I said reassuringly. “ Come 
along out of there, no one’s going to hurt you.” 

Again there was a commotion below, and again 
the boy’s face appeared at the locker. But this time 
I was there to receive him, and grabbing his arm, I 
assisted him to his feet with more vigor than de- 
corum. 

“ Now Spike,” I warned, “ remember I know the 
whole story, and my advice to you is to see that I 
have no cause to inform your employer of it.” 

“ Yessir, but s’elp me, sir, I didn’t ” 

“ I don’t want to hear any more ! ” I interrupted. 
“ Go and clean that dirt off you, and report to your 
employer at once. You’ll be lucky if you don’t 
have to do the work of the whole crew ! ” 

And when he had hustled off, I repaired to the 
mate’s room to attend to my own very necessary 
requirements. I had no intention of making trouble 
for Spike, as it was beyond doubt that he had been 


A Welcome Discovery 103 

but a tool in the hands of the mate, who had evi- 
dently preferred leaving him behind to sampling 
his loyalty. Indeed, I was overjoyed at finding the 
lad aboard the yacht, as I realized that, in the pres- 
ent emergency, a cabin-boy was an invaluable ac- 
quisition to the party. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


I FACE THE LADIES. 

Having made myself as presentable as possible, 
with the very indifferent facilities for that purpose 
to be found in the mate’s cabin, I went up on deck to 
take a look around, and sum up enough courage to 
meet the distressed ladies at breakfast. Not a vessel 
of any description was in sight, the wide expanse of 
horizon meeting the dark blue of the sky in a great 
unbroken circle, of which the yacht was the insig- 
nificant center. It was a strange and awesome sight, 
this vast area of the peaceful Deep, slumbering like 
some gorged titanic monster after its recent fury. 

The yacht had now entirely lost headway, and 
rode upon the glassy sea with the stateliness of a 
swan, rising and falling upon the long undulating 
swell with an absence of vibration and sound, which 
to me was appalling. Had I been the owner of the 
vessel, the wheel must needs have been freed and the 
engines churning their way landward, before I could 
104 


I Face the Ladies 


105 


have breathed easily, much less breakfasted. But 
Colonel Cavashaw was not the man to be disturbed 
by the simple fact that his yacht was drifting crew- 
less and helpless upon the broad bosom of the At- 
lantic. Nor did his nonchalance cause me the least 
surprise. I had witnessed it upon many previous 
occasions, and had grown accustomed to his stoical 
indifference to danger or misfortune. “ All’s well 
that ends well ! ” he would declare, speaking of fu- 
turity as glibly as though he were applying the 
phrase to a past event. But if I had no fear of the 
Colonel’s losing heart at the calamity that had be- 
fallen us, I felt genuinely concerned regarding the 
ladies. They would naturally view the situation in 
its most serious light. Our utter helplessness, and 
our exposure to the dangers of sea, wind, and col- 
lision would rise up in the feminine mind as over- 
whelming terrors, leading inevitably into the depths 
of frantic despair. 

Thus it was that I approached the saloon appre- 
hensively, and stood hesitating, with my hand upon 
the handle of the door. The thought of the painful 
distress that I would undoubtedly have to face, dis- 
pelled any appetite for breakfast that I might have 
previously had. I confess to having experienced a 


106 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

desire to postpone the meal indefinitely, and had 
already decided upon retreat, when the door sud- 
denly opened and I was confronted by the Colonel. 

“ Why, man, I’ve been looking all over for you! ” 
he exclaimed, catching me by the arm and pulling 
me into the saloon. 

“ Here he is, mother! ” he called out jocosely. 
“Here’s the rest of the crew! Tell Janet to leave 
the two youngsters with the Captain, and come to 
the conference in the saloon. The men are waiting 
to receive their orders, eh, Carlton? ” 

This boisterous behavior on the part of the 
Colonel left me speechless with amazement, and I 
jumped to the conclusion that he had deferred 
breaking the worst of the news until I was present 
to support and assist him. But my fears in this re- 
gard were more than dispelled a moment later, when 
Mrs. Cavashaw and her sister entered* the saloon. 

“Why, you poor boy!” exclaimed my sympa- 
thetic hostess, catching sight of my doleful coun- 
tenance. “ This exasperating affair has completely 
broken you up! Sit right down and have some 
breakfast, and you will feel ever so much steadier. 
We searched every corner of the ship for you, and 
I was really beginning to feel quite alarmed.” 


I Face the Ladies 


107 


“ Thought you’d got entangled in that donkey- 
engine of yours, didn’t we, mother ?” put in the 
Colonel. 

“ Do you know,” continued his wife, “ I’ve not 
seen George so excited about anything since he was 
a schoolboy. I verily believe he is glad the men 
have gone, just for the opportunity of running the 
yacht himself.” 

I smiled feebly, being too astonished at the way 
matters had turned out to make any more intelligent 
response. It was incredible to think that these 
ladies were in full possession of the appalling facts ; 
that they realized, and fully appreciated the grave 
situation in which we found ourselves. And yet 
this was undoubtedly the case. 

“ We wouldn’t attempt any such feat as running 
a steam-yacht without you, mother ! ” gallantly ad- 
mitted the Colonel. “ It takes mother’s head to 
put things into running order, eh, Carlton ? Do you 
remember the time she scared away the bull that had 
treed us two, when we were picnicking on Graham’s 
farm? Always have to laugh when I think of her 
exclaiming : * Oh, I wish those men were here to 
frighten away that horrid beast ! ’ And sure enough 
the wish was granted, for down from adjacent trees 


108 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

scrambled the two strong men — after mother had 
shooed away the bull. ,, 

“ Yes, it was very funny,” admitted Mrs. Cava- 
shaw. Her beautiful eyes sparkled with humor, but 
she refrained from joining in the general laughter 
which the Colonel’s reminiscence had provoked, and 
with quiet dignity added : “ I think it would be 

wiser, however, to reserve our mirth for a more 
opportune time, as I’m afraid we are all up a tree 
just at present.” 

“ We have the greatest confidence in your ability 
to shoo away any number of bulls, my dear — even 
the present one,” responded the Colonel with a pro- 
found bow. 

“ Alas, George, I fear that we are all better farm- 
ers than sailors. But we are here to do our ut- 
most, without either captain or crew, to guide our 
dear yacht to a safe harbor. 

“ My dear Edgar,” continued the courageous 
lady, laying her hand softly upon my arm, “ you 
have always been like a son to us in your willing- 
ness to help, and now we are obliged to put your 
loyalty to the severest test. In this emergency, we 
need your assistance — indeed, we are dependent 
upon it.” 


I Face the Ladies 


109 


Before I could make response to this flattering 
appeal for my services, the Colonel held up his hand. 
“ My friend,” he announced solemnly, “ I must 
warn you that whatever you say now, may subse- 
quently be used against you ! ” 

“ Madam,” I exclaimed fervently, rising and bow- 
ing to my charming hostess, “ I assure you that I 
feel it an honor thus to be able to place myself at 
your service, and I pray you to lay aside all con- 
sideration of my presence here as a guest, and to 
make known your wishes, which I shall esteem com- 
mands.” 

“ Bravo ! ” cried the Colonel at the conclusion of 
my little speech. “ Carlton, you're a brick ! And 
now, mother, set him to work shoveling coal.” 

“ George Cavashaw,” exclaimed that gentleman’s 
estimable sister-in-law, “ do sit down and try to be 
sensible for a minute ! So far, we two women have 
planned everything. What you would have done 
without us, I should very much like to know ! ” And 
smoothing out her prim lace apron with a final and 
deprecatory toss of her head, she sighed : “ Gra- 
cious! Will men ever be responsible creatures!” 

And, in truth, as the plans for taking the yacht 
back to port were unfolded, I found that the Colonel 


110 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

was as ignorant of them as myself. He sat with 
legs outstretched, his hands thrust deep into his 
trousers pockets, glowing with enthusiasm and bub- 
bling over with glee ; while the ladies, with wonder- 
ful sagacity and calm demeanor, showed their com- 
plete readiness and ability to cope with a situation 
which might have daunted the bravest of men. It 
was a remarkable program, indeed ! Never, in mari- 
time history, had a vessel sailed the high seas under 
such a happy blending of seamanship and domestic 
felicity. 

“ You see, Edgar,” explained my hostess, “ with 
you in the engine-room and George at the wheel, it 
will not be necessary for us to call upon Mr. 
Lesears for his assistance. That is what we wish to 
avoid doing, at all costs. He might talk, you know 
— one can never be sure. Such things get about so 
mysteriously — and, good heavens, what would peo- 
ple think ! ” 

“ Quite right,” I agreed. “ I’ve no doubt we can 
manage without him; ” the vision of Lesears in the 
stoke-hole, that I had so dearly cherished, fading as 
I spoke. 

“But how about the night watches?” ejacu- 
lated the Colonel, springing to his feet excitedly as 


I Face the Ladies 


111 


the importance of this apparent oversight was 
brought home to him. “ Who is there to relieve 
us? Naturally, you women never thought of that. 
Ah, mother, it looks as if you’ve met your Water- 
loo this time ! ” 

“ George,” replied his wife quietly, “ you know 
very well how opposed Janet and I have always 
been to unnecessary night work. We have always 
avoided travelling at night whenever it was possible, 
even at the sacrifice of convenience. And if others 
would do the same, the practice of forcing men to 
labor during the hours that Nature intended for re- 
pose, would soon be discouraged.” 

“ But,” gasped the Colonel, “ you surely don’t 
mean to imply that we shall lock up house — or, 
rather, ship — and retire every night? ” 

“ Yes, George, that is precisely what I mean. We 
should never think of keeping our house open day 
and night, and it would be foolish for us to overtax 
ourselves at this time, when we require all our ener- 
gies.” 

“ But, my dear,” objected the Colonel, “ that is 
hardly a parallel. There is no danger of our house 
colliding with another house during the night, or 
of drifting to goodness knows where, and ending 


112 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

up by falling into the trough of the sea and turning 
turtle to boot. We can be comfortably certain, at 
home, of waking up in the morning and finding our 
house still moored to the same plot of land, with the 
danger of nocturnal wandering entirely limited to 
Aunt Janet’s cat. But the same can hardly be said 
of ” 

“ George Cavashaw, you ought to be ashamed to 
speak that way of poor Archibald ! ” interrupted the 
indignant Miss Ashleigh, as she fondly caressed the 
abused feline. “ Just as though he were a common 
cat, indeed, and would think of prowling around at 
night — the idea ! Why, Archibald never would 
dream of such a thing! ” 

“ Well, I’ll admit he’s been pretty good about 
staying home nights lately,” cheerfully agreed her 
brother-in-law. “ And if we follow mother’s ad- 
vice of locking up and going to bed, we shall drift 
about enough to satisfy even Archibald.” 

Thus challenged, the Colonel’s indomitable wife, 
who had been patiently awaiting the subsidence of 
the domestic difficulties, calmly proceeded to eluci- 
date her very excellent plans. 

“ Some drifting, of course, is unavoidable,” she 
conceded. “ But cannot this objection be overcome, 


I Face the Ladies 


113 


to a great extent, by the use of what they term a 
1 sea-anchor ’ ? ” 

“ Excellent ! excellent ! ” cried the Colonel en- 
thusiastically. “ Mother, you’re a genius ! ” 

“ What I propose, then,” continued the lady, “ is 
that the yacht shall be operated on a strictly eight- 
hour basis, from nine to five, let us say, at which 
hour you will bank the furnaces and put out the sea- 
anchor. I am sure there is no good reason why a 
yacht’s fires could not be banked at night, just the 
same as our furnace is at home. This arrangement 
would leave you two hours in which to bath and 
dress for dinner. It would be less burdensome for 
you men, and would add materially to the happiness 
and comfort of the rest of the party, as we would 
not, then, be deprived of that much of your society 
to which we have a right.” 

“ It’s an excellent scheme, mother ! ” exclaimed 
the Colonel. “ The only part I have any doubts 
about, is whether this drifting business at night will 
be conducive to the most peaceful slumber.” 

“ As for that,” I suggested, “ why not promote 
Master Spike to officer in command, from midnight 
to six or seven in the morning. He could get his 
sleep from four o’clock in the afternoon until he 


114 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

goes on watch ; and double duty would only be what 
the young rascal deserves, anyway.” 

My reference to the cabin-boy caused intense sur- 
prise, and I soon found that he had not put in an 
appearance, despite my injunction to report at once. 

“ I’ll bet that youngster’s taken leave of us in 
the only remaining boat! ” cried the Colonel, making 
precipitately for the door. “ He was always mighty 
fond of saying he’d be the last to leave me ! ” 

I followed the irate gentleman up the companion- 
way, three steps at a time, to the deck, where our 
fears were instantly dispelled by the discovery that 
the youthful commander had merely anticipated his 
promotion, and was already on post. Pacing up and 
down before the wheel-house, the Captain’s tele- 
scope under his arm, was a uniformed figure which, 
at a distance, did not look unlike the mate. But the 
deception was not clever enough for the Colonel, 
and he set off to the bridge with sinister mutterings. 

“ Send him down to the engine-room,” I called 
after him. “ I’ll see that he gets a warming!” 
and without waiting to witness the result of the 
meeting, I went below to commence work in earn- 
est. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


A FEW ENGINE-ROOM EXPERIENCES. 

A suit of the absconded engineer’s overalls which 
I found in a drawer of the tool bench, a pair of oil 
begrimed gloves, and a leather motor-cap of my 
own, made me feel decidedly more at home in my 
surroundings. They did more than that. They in- 
spired me with a mysterious mechanical knowledge, 
so subtle in its application, so unerring in its deduc- 
tions, that within half an hour I felt that I was in 
possession of all the essential facts, and needed but 
a head of steam to start the engine churning merrily 
on its way to port. To this end Spike was already 
laboring in the stoke-hole, having descended (in a 
painfully literal sense) to the sad realities of life. 

It must not be imagined that I had put the engine 
into perfect running order. On the contrary, the 
mechanism remained in precisely the same condi- 
tion as the engineer had left it. I had merely made 
a discovery; but, to people situated as we were, my 
ii5 


116 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

discovery was of primary importance. Attached to 
the steam-pipe which connected the engine with the 
boiler, I had found a valve by which the supply of 
steam could be regulated. It required but a few 
turns to give the engine the full pressure of the 
boiler, or to shut off the steam completely. It is 
true that the valve was located in an extremely awk- 
ward place, and was evidently only intended for use 
in case of emergency. But, after all, the main point 
was that I had at hand a means of controlling the 
machinery, if not gracefully, at least with a degree 
of promptness and certainty. The engine could not 
be reversed without the missing levers, to be sure, 
but this did not impress me with any undue im- 
portance at the time. Indeed, I felt justly proud of 
my accomplishment, which had been made only at 
the imminent peril of breaking my neck, as I clam- 
bered about the slippery steel on a tour of in- 
spection. 

It was while I was engaged in wiping from my 
face the grease which had thus been acquired, that 
I heard my name pronounced in a silvery voice 
which issued from the maze of steel gratings above ; 
and looking up the ladder, I saw Sibyl poised at the 
top of the perilous flight, apparently about to de- 


A Few Engine-Room Experiences 117 

scend. In one hand she gathered the skirt of her 
white sailor suit, tucking it daintily about her ankles, 
while with the other she grasped the iron guide-rail 
of the ladder. The next instant she had released it 
with a funny little grimace, as she discovered that 
the metal was veneered with grease. 

“ For heaven’s sake, don’t attempt to come down 
here ! ” I cried in genuine alarm. “ It is fright- 
fully dangerous, not to mention the oil and dirt.” 

“But I want to speak to you — besides, I wish to 
come down ! ” was the somewhat petulant reply. 

“ I’ll come up to you, then — no, no, please don’t 
attempt it ! ” I called in dismay, mounting the lad- 
der two steps at a time. 

In the excitement I had completely forgotten 
about my overalls and general grimy appearance, 
and when I reached my fair visitor it was to find 
her with a wry face. 

“ Gracious, how uncouth you look ! ” she ex- 
claimed, backing away from me instinctively. “ It 
seems to have become quite a habit with you lately.” 

Not a little embarrassed, and perhaps somewhat 
nettled by the greeting, I bowed stiffly. “ How can 
I be of service to you, Miss Sibyl ? ” I said, with 
cold politeness. “ You are doubtless aware that we 


118 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


are rather short-handed at present, and it becomes 

the not unpleasant duty of some of us ” 

“Oh, please don’t be unkind!” she exclaimed, 
with an impulsive little gesture. “Of course 1 
know what those mean men did, and realize what 
a whole mountain of responsibility you and dear old 
Dad have shouldered. But I have learned to ex- 
pect everything from you two. You are my ideal 
men — so big and brave and strong ! But, you never 

would take a joke nicely, like Dad does 

As for being of service to me,” (her voice sank to 
almost a murmur) “ I think, as it is, I am hope- 
lessly indebted to you, Edgar.” 

She dropped her eyes, and I thought that her 
hands trembled slightly as she clasped them nerv- 
ously. She was beautiful as she stood before me 
thus, and I felt all the emotions, that I had thought 
were suppressed, surge through me in a wild tu- 
mult. 

“ It is too hot for you here,” I said, gently. “ Let 
us step out upon the deck for a few minutes.” 

“No, no!” she exclaimed breathlessly, as I laid 

my hand upon the handle of the door. “ He 

must not know I am here ! ” 

“Who?” I asked, turning quickly. 


A Few Engine-Room Experiences 119 

It was a brutal question, made excessively so by 
the fact that I well knew to whom she referred. 
But in a sudden fit of jealousy, I was obsessed by 
a mad desire to give pain to this beautiful creature 
whom another controlled. I inwardly raged that, 
at such a moment, she should have entertained an 
irrelevant consideration. 

She made no reply, save, perhaps, by an almost 
imperceptible quiver of her lips ; her whole attitude 
was plainly one of intense fear. But, in another 
instant, she had recovered her composure, and 
sought to hide from me the cause of her agitation. 

“ Well,” she continued, tapping her foot with 
genuine or pretended impatience, “ am I not to be 
helped down the ladder ? ” 

“ Please don’t insist upon going down there,” I 
implored, with an effort at self-composure. “ It 
would be wilfully risking your life. And besides,” 
I added lightly, “ you would ruin your pretty frock 
— the steps are covered with grease.” 

“ Then you may carry me down,” was the calm 
rejoinder. 

Little did she suspect the tremendous devastating 
power of her words. They were like oil on a smoul- 
dering fire! I experienced a thrill of the wildest 


120 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

emotions. All my being bounded with ecstasy at 
the mere thought of holding her in my arms. Many 
times I had carried her as a child, but now I real- 
ized the great, indefinable change that had occurred. 
How strange, how impelling, it was! Perhaps she 
did not know — she was but a girl of eighteen — 
perhaps she did not know what it would mean to 
me ; what subtle forces would be liberated to torture 
my aching spirit; how it would rend my very soul 
— aye, and perhaps hers too ! 

The thought, virulent as a serpent’s sting, per- 
meated my being. I was imbued with a new pas- 
sion, a new determination, a new love! I lived in 
a great whirl of emotions, the vortex of which was 
this one mad, overwhelming desire. All — every- 
thing was subordinated to it! 

I may be wrong, but I fancy that, during those 
few tense moments, the pallor of my face, despite its 
grime, must have betrayed to the intuition of the 
highly sensitive girl the mad frenzy of my passion. 
Yet she made no retreat, no sign of tergiversation, 
albeit I did not move until she spoke again. 

“ Do you refuse to carry me down? ” she asked, 
with prettily arched brows. And then, smiling, 
and with candor : “ There was a time, Edgar Carl- 


A Few Engine-Room Experiences 121 

ton, when you did not mind helping me over a diffi- 
culty — even though it meant carrying me ! ” 

Her smile had always been fatal to me; although 
I needed no further tempting. With a quick move- 
ment I tore off my oil-stained coat, and flung it to 
the bottom of the ladder. Then, stooping, I gently 
raised her on my left arm, and stood for a mo- 
ment upon the brink of the perilous descent, recov- 
ering my balance. In the pause our hearts beat 
audibly, so close did she cling to me. Yet neither 
of us spoke. We were enravished by the supreme 
enchantment of our act, which rendered words too 
utterly gross a conveyance for our emotions. 

I realized the hazardous nature of what I was 
about to do. The almost perpendicular ladder, the 
slippery iron steps, the rolling of the vessel, and the 
fact that I could use but one arm to steady myself, 
made the feat little short of impossible, and one of 
sheer madness. But I cared not for such things. 
The soft warm pressure of Sibyl’s arms about my 
neck, the touch of her cheek upon my forehead, 
the wild beating of her heart, and the incense of her 
breath, intoxicated me to a degree far beyond any 
sense of fear. At each heave of the vessel, when 
I staggered and gripped the rail to steady myself, 


122 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


her embrace tightened, and her quick breath came 
hot against my face. There were moments when I 
could scarce breathe, so tightly did her arms clasp 
about my neck, — but I would have choked without 
a murmur. Verily, I believe that I could have lived 
without breath! I was in a wild transport of de- 
light! I experienced an unutterable joy which de- 
fies words. . . . 

And when, at length, we arrived at the bottom in 
safety, and she slipped lightly from my arm, we 
stood for some moments panting with the excite- 
ment and exhilaration of it all, our eyes fixed upon 
each other with a strange and irresistible fascination 
which was new to us both. 


CHAPTER XV. 


PRIDE HAS ITS FALL. 

It was Sibyl who broke the spell that had come 
over us as we stood enthralled by our experience, 
gazing upon each other in ecstatic silence. Glanc- 
ing upward, as it seemed involuntarily, she gave a 
startled exclamation; then, quick as a flash, darted 
over to the tool bench and hid her scarlet face in 
her hands. 

My eyes instinctively followed hers, and encoun- 
tered those of Lesears. His head protruded through 
the open skylight, revealing a face distorted with 
rage, the eyes literally bulging from their sockets. 
I glimpsed him but an instant, for the head was al- 
most immediately withdrawn ; but it sufficed to make 
a deep and lasting impression upon me, so startling 
was the change from his usual demeanor, and so 
utterly revolting. 

The skylight, which had been open for ven- 
tilation, was situated upon the promenade deck, and 
it at once occurred to me that, in consequence of 


124 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

the unusual stillness in the engine-room, our voices 
had been audible to Lesears as he passed by. He 
had promptly turned “ Peeping Tom,” and had un- 
doubtedly witnessed the whole affair between Sibyl 
and myself, as our last words were spoken upon the 
landing at the top of the ladder. 

I fully expected the fellow to appear at the en- 
gine-room door and make a scene, if not actually to 
descend the ladder. I therefore deemed it advis- 
able to take what precautions I could to save Sibyl 
from further embarrassment. 

“ Spike ! ” I called to the laboring figure down 
in the stoke-hole. “ Run up and lock the engine- 
room door.” 

“ Yessir,” came the prompt response. And as he 
bounded up the ladder into view, he added : 
“ Steam’s up, sir ” 

His voice dropped as he suddenly became aware 
of Sibyl’s presence, and he finished his ascent to 
the accompaniment of a low whistle, indicative of 
intense surprise tempered by a highly commendable 
degree of philosophic wisdom. 

Sibyl’s back was turned to me, but her hand- 
kerchief betrayed her discomposure. She had evi- 
dently been crying. Realizing that she had some- 


Pride has its Fall 


125 


thing to say to me, I softly approached her, but 
stood in doubt as to further procedure. 

“ If you have steam up, why don't you start the 
engine ? " she exclaimed impatiently, but without 
turning. “ Dad has been waiting upon the bridge 
ever so long ! " 

“ I'm afraid you would hardly care to be here 
when that thing is going," I replied awkwardly. 
“ It’s so frightfully noisy, you know." 

“ Then why do you suppose I came ? " was the 
quick rejoinder. 

To this I could make no reply ; indeed, I realized 
my error in having obtruded myself at such a mo- 
ment; and feeling extremely foolish, I climbed up 
to my steam-valve. Slowly I turned it, anxiously 
awaiting results. These, at first, manifested them- 
selves in an ominous rumbling like distant thunder, 
followed by grinding and straining sounds which 
were terrifying in their very nature. But soon, 
with much hissing and spluttering, the ponderous 
cranks majestically rose and, reaching their apex, 
as majestically descended; steadily increasing in 
speed until they swung rhythmically around to a 
perfect chorus of snorting, clanking, and wheezing. 

I know not what the emotions of an engineer are 


126 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

at such moments. Perhaps, being a man of iron, 
he experiences none. But, to me, the sight of this 
whirling mass of machinery, stirred into such ter- 
rific motion by a mere turn of the hand, was amaz- 
ing, and produced such an exuberance of feeling 
that I could have shouted for joy. I did not shout, 
for at that instant I discovered that Sibyl's eyes 
were upon me. A curious smile played about her 
mouth, and I realized, for the first time, how ridicu- 
lous I must appear, squatting upon a beam with 
scarcely room to turn around. 

“ You look ever so like a monkey up there,” she 
called mischievously. 

I swung myself down with the feeling of a man 
who has been caught playing with a child’s toys. 
I confess that there was no occasion for any such 
embarrassment, but my extenuation lies in the 
supersensitiveness which is ever peculiar to the 
swain. Thus I sought to enhance the importance of 
my position by simulating a profound knowledge of 
mechanics, which was as dangerous as it was false. 
I leaned recklessly over the crank-pit and, regard- 
less of the risk to one unaccustomed to such work, 
felt the bearings of the ponderous mass of steel as it 
swung past me. I had observed this action on the 


Pride has its Fall 


127 


part of engineers, and by seeking to imitate it I 
fully justified the application of Sibyl’s epithet. Nor 
was my false pride spared the proverbial fall ; while 
I narrowly escaped a far worse fate than that of 
mere accident. 

My position at the crank-pit brought me directly 
under the skylight, through which the sun’s rays 
beat fiercely. Indeed, it was this latter circumstance 
which undoubtedly saved my life, for had it not been 
for the timely warning which I received by the sud- 
den appearance of a man’s shadow in the sunlight, 
I should have had no intimation of my peril until it 
was too late. As it was, with Lesears’ hideous rage 
fresh in my mind, the shadow caused me to look up 
apprehensively, the movement being barely sufficient 
to save me from a heavy iron crowbar which 
whizzed within an inch of my head, embedding its 
point in the engine-room floor. 

With a terrified scream Sibyl made a move- 
ment toward me, but I motioned her back and, 
as quickly as possible, scrambled out of the 
machinery. 

“ Oh, what a frightfully narrow escape you 
had ! ” she cried, clasping her hands in a paroxysm 
of emotion. “ It is the second time that has hap- 


128 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

pened ! It was criminal to replace that loose bar in 
the skylight.” 

“ It was criminal, indeed ! ” I replied signifi- 
cantly, realizing, with some surprise, that she con- 
sidered it an accident. 

Hardly were the words spoken when there came 
a vigorous knocking upon the door, accompanied by 
the voice of Lesears loudly demanding admittance. 

“ What’s happened in there — open this con- 
founded door, will you ! ” he cried, supplementing 
his words with a volley of resounding kicks. 

I admit that I was completely unprepared for this 
strategic move on the part of my rival, and for the 
moment I was at a loss to know just how to act. It 
occurred to me that, after all, Sibyl might be right 
in looking upon the grave affair as an accident. 
But, in view of what had previously occurred, I 
was by no means disposed to consider the appear- 
ance of the shadow as a mere coincidence, until I 
had learned more about it; and requesting Sibyl to 
remain below, I hurriedly mounted the ladder. 

My desire to be unaccompanied when I opened 
the door and faced Lesears, was prompted by a not 
unnatural fear of the consequences of our meeting. 
His distorted face at the skylight was still fresh in 


Pride has its Fall 


129 


my mind and, whether guilty or innocent of attempt- 
ing my life, I felt that his anger could hardly have 
subsided. But, with woman’s intuition, Sibyl 
quickly divined my thoughts and, ere I could turn 
the key in the door, she was by my side. 

“ Remember he is our guest, Edgar ! ” she whis- 
pered breathlessly, placing a restraining hand upon 
my arm. “ Be careful what you do, for my 
sake.” 

The poor child was trembling like a leaf, ob- 
viously terrified. But I did not attribute her fear 
to anything more serious than the anticipation of 
an encounter between her two lovers. Turning, I 
looked straight into the depths of her wonderful 
eyes, and immediately she released my arm, satis- 
fied that whatever happened she could trust me to 
respect her wish. 

But I was again to get a demonstration of my 
rival’s extraordinary cunning and farcical audacity, 
which, if it had no other effect, at least left no room 
for Sibyl’s apprehensions. As I opened the door 
Lesears greeted us with such a spontaneous ex- 
pression of relief at our safety, that it was not pos- 
sible to doubt his sincerity. 

“ By Jove! you people,” he cried, extending a 


130 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

hand to each of us, “ I'm jolly glad to see you both 
alive, I can tell you! E’gad, girl, your scream 
scared me no end ! Thought you were being ground 
to pieces in that infernal mill down there, hanged if 
I didn’t ! ” 

“ Do not blame me until you hear the reason,” re- 
plied Sibyl, in such a strange monotone that I turned 
to her apprehensively, fearing that she was about to 
faint. 

She made a brave attempt to smile, but her beau- 
tiful face was unusually serious. I thought, too, 
that she sought to hide her hands that they might 
not betray her emotion. But this evidence of ex- 
treme mental agitation did not surprise me, as I 
realized that the girl was well aware of her fiance’s 
inward rage, despite his friendly demeanor. 

Had I not been so easily satisfied with this ex- 
planation, had I sought a deeper and far graver 
cause for Sibyl’s remarkable behavior, I might have 
more seriously noted with what uncanny delibera- 
tion she proceeded to give an account of my narrow 
escape, telling of the broken skylight and of the 
previous accident that had occurred from the same 
cause. This she did without interruption, then 
calmly asked Lesears if he had not lifted the window 


Pride has its Fall 


131 


of the skylight when he looked into the engine- 
room. 

“ That’s right, by Jove, I did look down there! ” 
he exclaimed, with a visible squirm, though he has- 
tened to correct any wrong impression as to its 
cause. “ Couldn’t make out where that abominably 
greasy smell came from, y’know. And now I come 
to think of it, I believe I did lift the window in 
order to poke my fat head through — blithering idiot 
that I am! 

“ Carlton, o’man,” he added, placing a hand upon 
my shoulder and looking the picture of genuine 
concern, “ that was a close shave you had — doocedly 
close ! And all on account of my confounded curi- 
osity. Gad, but it makes me creep to think of it! 
I’ll wager it cures me of prying into other people’s 
affairs. But you’ll forgive me, old fellow, won’t 
you ? ” 

“ Certainly,” I replied. “ Let’s think no more 
about it.” 

Thus, I again mentally exonerated Lesears from 
any criminal intentions. As for his fit of anger, if 
he was satisfied to pass over it with the droll ex- 
planation that he was looking for the source of a 
greasy smell, I certainly had no objections. Indeed, 


132 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

I felt at the time that the man was more sinned 
against than sinning, as it could not be denied that 
there had been ample cause for his jealousy. 

And so I returned to the engine-room, after ex- 
cusing myself on the ground that I was neglecting 
my duties ; and in the adventuresome pursuit of the 
same I soon forgot all about the excitement of the 
morning. Not until some hours later did I realize 
the appalling significance of the incident. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


I AWAKEN TO REAL FACTS. 

With the exception of a bearing becoming dry 
and shrieking in a most disconcerting manner, until 
I located it after a half-hour's perilous search, the 
engine ran perfectly. Nor did I receive any com- 
plaints from the bridge; a fact which I considered as 
highly complimentary as it was extraordinary. As 
a result of Spike’s excellent work, there was no lack 
of steam. Indeed, quite the reverse was the case 
later in the day, a circumstance of which we were 
duly made aware. 

I was eating my lunch in the engine-room, and 
Spike, having returned from his, was coaling with 
frantic energy as though to make up for lost time, 
when suddenly there occurred what I at first thought 
to be nothing less than a boiler explosion. Without 
any warning whatever, the air was rent by a terrific 
roar, the deafening noise being accompanied by a 
dense volume of steam which, in a few seconds, 
133 


134 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

filled the engine-room and stoke-hole almost to the 
degree of suffocation. 

At the first intimation of trouble, Spike, with 
commendable prudence, shot up the ladder and 
dashed out on deck, before I could lay a restraining 
hand on him. 

“ Gee ! ” he yelled as he flew past me, “ she's 
busted for fair ! ” 

Disconcerting though this somewhat vague in- 
formation was, I remained below. And when I had 
taken a moment to collect my scattered wits, T real- 
ized that if one of the boilers had actually exploded, 
Spike and I, and in all probability a greater portion 
of the yacht, would have been blown skyward. 
Nevertheless, there could be no doubt that some- 
thing had gone wrong, and as I stood endeavoring 
to think of what was most likely to happen as a re- 
sult of overcoaling, there suddenly came to me the 
recollection of that ingenious device known as the 
safety-valve. Obviously, it was this wonderful piece 
of mechanism that, at the present moment, was per- 
forming its somewhat noisy though heroic functions 
— heroic, because our lives had undoubtedly been 
saved thereby. 

The roaring ceased as suddenly as it had com- 


I Awaken to Real Facts 


135 


menced, and immediately I heard excited voices 
above, and the sound of some one groping his way 
down the ladder. 

“ Hello there, Carlton ! ” called the Colonel’s 
familiar voice through the dense vapor. “ What, in 
thunder, are you up to. now! ” 

" Up to?” said I, suppressing my indignation, in 
order to appear quite calm and unconcerned when 
my host came into view. “ I’m enjoying my lunch 
just at present. What did you suppose I was up 
to?” 

By this time the Colonel had groped his way to 
my side, where he stood a dimly discernible figure, 
puffing and blowing in fair competition with the en- 
gine itself, and mopping little rivulets of perspiration 
from his overheated brow the while. 

“ Why, I thought you were taking a Turkish 
bath, likely as not,” he growled. “ Anyhow, you’ve 
got too much loose steam around here to be com- 
fortable, don’t you think? ” 

“ Well, now you speak of it. Colonel,” said I, 
determined, for once, to pay him back in his own 
coin, “ it does seem as though we should be able to 
get along with less.” 

“ I think so. Where’s the leak? ” 


136 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


“ Oh, there’s no leak. A boiler exploded, that’s 
all” 

“ A boiler exploded ! ” gasped the venerable gen- 
tleman in real dismay. “ Up on deck, man — quick 
with you! Why, that’s one of the most frightful 
things that can happen! It’s a wonder you’re not 
dead before this ! ” 

“ Well, I shall see that I am more prompt about it 
next time,” I laughed, as I resisted his frantic efforts 
to drag me up the ladder. 

“ The fact is, my dear Colonel,” I continued with 
candor, “I am trying to teach you a lesson in 
ethics. You doubtless remember having made some 
not altogether complimentary allusions, this morn- 
ing, to my qualifications as an engineer ” 

But ere I could conclude my gentle reproof, the 
Colonel had faded into the surrounding mist. A 
moment later, I heard him ascend the ladder and 
offer some very plausible explanation to the excited 
party upon deck. Spike, too, returned sheepishly to 
work, albeit the zeal with which he had previously 
shoveled coal was noticeably wanting. 

Thus my first day of toil was not without its ex- 
citing, and also its amusing incidents, which at least 
served to relieve the monotony. At four o’clock, I 


I Awaken to Real Facts 


137 


instructed Spike to fill all the furnaces with coal 
and to fasten the doors ajar, so that the fires would 
gradually go down and be banked for the night. 
After this, the lad left me in order to get all the 
sleep he could until midnight, when his services 
would again be required as a lookout upon the 
bridge until morning. I felt that this arrangement 
was rather hard on the youth, but as we expected 
to make port the following day, I consoled myself 
with the knowledge that he would not lose more than 
one night’s proper sleep. And at five o’clock, 
promptly, I stopped work myself, in accordance with 
the eight-hour law that obtained aboard the yacht 
— the engine, having ceased a quarter of an hour 
earlier, in consequence of the steam dying down. 

I was ascending the ladder, imbued with that 
virtuous feeling which comes only as a result of 
hard work, when the Colonel’s head appeared 
through the open skylight. 

“ Ha-ha ! ” he ejaculated gleefully. “ The en- 
gineer doesn’t propose to work overtime, anyhow ! ” 

“ Nor does the captain seem to be inclined to, for 
that matter,” said I. But whatever you do, Col- 
onel,” I warned, “ don’t poke your head through 
that skylight — the thing is dangerous.” 


138 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

“ Dangerous ! ” he repeated. “ Why, what’s the 
matter with it? ” 

“ It’s broken, isn’t it? ” I asked in surprise. 

“ I’m not aware of it.” 

“ Well, it was broken at one time, wasn’t it? ” I 
persisted, struggling against a vague dread of some- 
thing imminent — and awful. 

“ Not to my knowledge, my boy. Never knew of 
a broken skylight aboard this yacht. Why? Where 
on earth did you get the idea from ? ” 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” I returned, assuming a tone 
of indifference. “ If I can’t scare you, never mind 
about it.” 

“ So that’s it, eh? You object to people so much 
as looking into your precious engine-room, do you? 
Well, in that case you had better keep your venti- 
lator closed, and swelter!” Thereupon, my face- 
tious host promptly lowered the sash. 

I was not sorry, for it left me alone to my bitter 
reflections. I watched the operation of the trian- 
gular lever, as the window closed down. It worked 
perfectly. There was not so much as a piece of 
putty missing from the casement, much less a heavy 
iron bar like the one that had come within an inch 
of killing me. A prey to the most dreadful suspic- 


I Awaken to Real Facts 


139 


ions, I returned to the engine-room, and picked up 
the bar of iron. It was an ordinary crowbar, and 
could not possibly have been part of the skylight ! 

I know not how long I stood contemplating the 
wretched object which had divulged so much — so 
great a tragedy. I was assailed by emotions too 
complex for analysis, but from which there stood 
revealed the true character of Lesears, undisguised 
and abhorrent. Nor was it much of a revelation to 
me. It is true that I felt chagrined at being duped 
so long by this suave and genteel, blackguard. But 
it was not that upon which I pondered; it was not 
that which kindled within me a lust for revenge — 
a hatred for a fellow being of which I had not 
thought the human heart capable. It was the 
thought — nay, the certain knowledge that Lesears 
owned Sibyl, body and soul ! To shield him she had 
actually stooped to falsehood, deliberate and incrim- 
inating. And with what utter futility ! 

But I was far from accusing Sibyl ; indeed, I was 
overwhelmed with compassion for her. Her words 
in the saloon, whispered eagerly, breathlessly into 
my ear, now took the form of a desperate appeal 
for help. At the time, I had utterly failed so to in- 
terpret them. They had but awakened me to a 


140 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

knowledge of my love for her. I had instantly be- 
come jealous, it is true, but only mildly so. I had 
resented the intimate terms upon which my rival 
appeared to be, but simply because they were denied 
me. But now, my whole being revolted at the 
alliance ! That Sibyl, whose beauty and rare refine- 
ment made her a queen among women, should sacri- 
fice herself to this reprobate and criminal, was some- 
thing my mind utterly rejected ! 

With a sudden impulse I flung the iron from me 
and, retracing my steps up the ladder, repaired to 
my room to dress for dinner. I was crushed by the 
horror of the thing that was so apparent. And yet 
I told myself that it was not too late. 

It was clear that Sibyl’s case was desperate, or she 
could not have brought herself to shield a would-be 
murderer. Equally clear was it, that whatever 
power Lesears held over her made it impossible for 
her to obtain succor from the friends by whom she 
was surrounded, or even to confide in her guardians. 
But, far from discouraging me, I realized that in 
this fact lay the clue to the whole revolting situation. 
It pointed, unmistakably, to the one explanation that 
Lesears, low brute that he was, having learned the 
circumstances of Sibyl’s adoption, had fabricated 


I Awaken to Real Facts 


141 


some malicious lie regarding her birth, and by 
threatening to divulge it if she did not conform to 
his wishes, had extorted from her a promise of 
marriage. 

If this was so, then the mere bringing of the 
Colonel and his wife into the case would frustrate 
Lesears’ designs. But I realized that I was power- 
less to resort to this prompt, and undeniably proper 
mode of procedure, as it was Sibyl’s horror of that 
very thing that Lesears used as his weapon. And a 
most effective weapon it was, for I found myself 
unable even to charge the would-be murderer with 
his crime without precipitating a crisis, as well 
as seriously implicating Sibyl. 

There appeared to be but one course open to me, 
therefore, if I would help the girl in her dire distress 
before it was too late. Primarily, it was necessary 
to maintain an absolute silence regarding the whole 
affair before the Colonel, his wife, and his sister-in- 
law. It was also necessary to endeavor to put 
Lesears off his guard by appearing to have no sus- 
picions whatever, either of his attempted personal 
violence or of his attitude toward Sibyl. I would 
then be meeting my cunning foe upon his own 
ground, and fighting him with his own weapons. 


142 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

Indeed, it was essential to success that I should 
resort to all the strategy employed by my enemy, 
while taking every opportunity offered to gain 
Sibyl's confidence. 

Thus I laid my plans. And having meanwhile 
dressed for dinner, I lit a cigarette the better to 
simulate a calm demeanor, and sauntered out to 
the after-deck determined to throw myself into the 
merry spirit of the occasion without reserve. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


SIBYL AND I LAY PLANS. 

Sibyl, the Colonel, and Lesears were upon the 
after-deck when I arrived there, the two elder 
ladies being engaged in preparing dinner. At my 
approach Sibyl glanced up with a startled expres- 
sion, but immediately recovering herself, she leaned 
wearily back in her chair and closed her eyes. Her 
face was very white, and she appeared to feel the 
heat excessively. 

Curiously enough, it was Lesears who greeted my 
appearance. Nor could it be said that his manner 
was indicative of a guilty conscience. 

“ Ah ! ” he exclaimed, rising and adjusting his 
monocle, the better to survey me as I approached. 
“ Here comes our millionaire engineer. Gad, but 
you look smart enough now, o’man ! ” He ex- 
tended his hand, cordially. “ Blest if I could get 
clean in a year after a day in that infernal hole! ” he 
said. 


143 


144 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

I took the proffered hand and gripped it with my 
full force, being careful, however, not to allow 
the complacent smile which I wore to leave my face 
for an instant. My grip had been famous at college, 
very few caring to experience it a second time, 
and, apart from the satisfaction of inflicting it 
upon my arch-enemy, I thought that it might serve 
as an unmistakable, though well-guarded hint of 
what was in store for him. 

But Lesears’ face retained its droll expression, 
nor did he wince in the slightest degree. Quite on 
the contrary, he smiled benignly, and remarked with 
his habitual drawl : “ Dooced clevah, I call it, to 
turn in and run the bally ship like a born greaser, 
eh, Cavashaw?” 

“Well, yes — I'll admit he ran it like a born 
greaser,” responded the Colonel facetiously. 

“ Where’s the ‘ kick ’ now, Cap’n ? ” said I, salut- 
ing in true sailor fashion. 

“ There’s no actual 4 kick ’, my boy,” responded 
my host meditatively. “ That is, * one ought not to 
look a gift horse in the mouth ’, as Janet would say. 
But I’m willing to bet that we’d have done better 
mileage if I’d taken a swim and towed the yacht 
after me.” 


Sibyl and I Lay Plans 145 

“ How many knots did we make? ” I inquired in 
genuine surprise. 

“ Do you mean towards land, or describing the 
figure eight a score of times in mid-ocean ? ” 

“ Landward, of course/' said I. 

“ Well/’ replied the Colonel, putting his head on 
one side, and assuming the abstracted air of one 
about to tackle a mathematical problem. “ I 
reckon we must have made close on five knots in 
the direction of land, though it's mighty difficult 
figuring." 

“ Five knots ! ” I exclaimed indignantly. “ Non- 
sense ! Why, those engines reeled off a hundred, if 
they went a mile ! ” 

“ Just your figure, Cavashaw, by Jove!" put in 
Lesears, with a laugh. “ A hundred miles of eights, 
eh — multiply a hundred by eight and divide by the 
time of day, and I’ll bet you get our latitude." 

“ Now wait a minute," cautioned the Colonel, 
thoughtfully. “ A mile for each circle, makes two 
miles to each figure eight, and I guess we must have 
described close on fifty of ’em by five o’clock. ..." 

“ What, on earth, are you talking about ? " I ex- 
claimed, in astonishment. 

“Quite simple," returned the Colonel, reassur- 


146 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

ingly. “ Although, at the time, it was amazingly 
complicated, eh, Lesears ? ” 

“ Gad, no end ! Thought we’d struck a blessed 
typhoon that had run out of wind, myself! ” 

“ Well, what was it? Let’s hear about it.” I de- 
manded, a victim of certain vague and disconcerting 
doubts. 

The Colonel gave a complacent chuckle. “If 
you’d not been so mighty touchy about my looking 
through that skylight of yours, my boy,” said he, 
“ I should have been inclined to break the news to 
you more gently. But, as it is, I take pleasure in 
reiterating my remarks upon your qualifications as 
an engineer — to which, by the way, you unwisely 
alluded this afternoon — and at the same time sug- 
gesting that it might expedite our arrival in port, if 
you would take the trouble to see that your engines 
are both going ahead.” 

“ Going ahead ? ” I repeated, mechanically, for it 
was the effect that the mention of the skylight had 
upon Sibyl, that occupied my thoughts. 

Every bit of color had left her face, though she 
did not move in her chair, nor open her eyes. The 
desperate fight she was making to control herself, 
however, was plainly manifested in the tightly com- 


Sibyl and I Lay Plans 


147 


pressed lips and clenched hands. It was more than 
I could endure to see the poor girl in such an agony 
of distress, and I hastened to reassure her by turning 
the conversation into safer channels. 

“ My dear Colonel/' I exclaimed, laughing, “ it 
is you that are touchy. You did not take my 
joke gracefully, at all. But what is this you 
say about seeing that the engines are both going 
ahead ? ” 

“ Oh, as far as that is concerned, my boy, you may 
drive them astern if you like — in fact, I don’t know 
that it wouldn’t be better, as mother would get a 
fine breeze here on the after-deck. Please yourself 
about it, so long as you drive them both in the same 
direction. But when one engine is going ahead, and 
the other astern — well, it resulted in our doing a 
hundred miles of circles, before we discovered the 
cause.” 

Here both the Colonel and Lesears burst into a 
fit of laughter at my expense. But I noticed that 
their merriment quickly subsided upon the arrival 
of Miss Ashleigh. 

“ The idea of you two men laughing at Mr. Carl- 
ton ! ” exclaimed that lady indignantly, as she laid 
the cloth upon a table that had been moved to the 


148 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

after-deck. And then, turning to me, she added: 
“ Did they tell you how they occupied themselves 
this hot afternoon?” 

“ No, they did not,” I replied, with my eyes upon 
my questioner, but my whole attention given to Sibyl 
who, having risen languidly from her chair, was 
about to leave the after-deck. 

“ Then I will tell you just how these men 
passed the hottest part of the day, while my 
sister and I were busily engaged below, and you 
will understand why no one discovered that we 
were steaming in a circle until it was time to stop 
work. “ And with this, the good lady complacently 
settled herself in the chair which Sibyl had just 
vacated, and prepared to give me a full and 
pleonastic account. 

I know not what would have resulted had not 
Mrs. Cavashaw appeared at that moment and re- 
quested that some one sit with the invalid Captain 
for a while. I very much fear that I would have 
been guilty of the grossest breach of etiquette, for I 
was determined not to miss the opportunity of hav- 
ing a word with Sibyl while she was alone. With 
really commendable promptness I offered my serv- 
ices, and, after apologizing most profoundly to Miss 


Sibyl and I Lay Plans 


149 


Ashleigh, withdrew, feeling assured that the cir- 
cumstances made it impossible for Lesears to fol- 
low. 

Hastening down to the saloon and finding that 
Sibyl was not there, I decided, at once, to go to her 
stateroom. But, to my great disappointment, the 
door was hooked open and the room empty. I was 
strongly tempted to pursue my search to the for- 
ward part of the vessel, for I had that to say which 
I knew would relieve Sibyl of much needless anxiety. 
But feeling that any further delay in the fulfilment 
of my commission would be quite unjustifiable, I 
reluctantly gave up my quest and proceeded to the 
Colonel’s stateroom, wherein lay the helpless Cap- 
tain. 

Not wishing to arouse the sick man, in case he 
was asleep, I opened the door noiselessly and stepped 
softly into the room. To my great surprise, Sibyl 
was seated at the side of the couch upon which the 
master mariner lay. Her back was to the door, and 
as she turned over the pages of a book, she said 
something in an undertone that was inaudible to 
me, but that evidently reached the ears for which it 
was intended. 

“ Well, well ! ” exclaimed the skipper gaily, as he 


150 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

caught sight of me. “ Lady Sibyl breathes but his 
name, and lo ! the gallant knight appears.” 

Thoroughly startled by my sudden and unan- 
nounced appearance, Sibyl closed the book with a 
little cry of alarm, and springing to her feet con- 
fronted me almost defiantly. Her eyes were un- 
usually large and bright, and upon each cheek there 
burned a vivid red spot, while her dry lips parted 
as if in fearful anticipation. 

Catching the spirit of the Captain’s remark, I re- 
solved to pursue it, as being the surest way of allay- 
ing Sibyl’s fears and, at the same time, of passing 
over an exceedingly awkward situation. 

“ I trust her ladyship will pardon my intrusion, 
and not permit it to interrupt her reading,” I said, 
with a profound bow. 

I had merely guessed at the purpose of Sibyl’s 
visit. But the guess was a good one, and the Cap- 
tain lost no time in making me aware of it. 

“ If you wouldn’t mind, Mr. Carlton,” he said 
eagerly, “ and if Lady Sibyl will be so gracious as 
to continue, we’ll just overhaul this exciting part 
before dropping anchor. It would be too much like 
mooring a ship in mid-ocean to stop right in the mid- 
dle of this chapter. I’m a slave to Sir Walter Scott, 


Sibyl and I Lay Plans 


151 


you must know, Mr. Carlton. I’ll swear I couldn’t 
navigate this trouble I’m in, without my ration of 
Scott. Guess I’m a fragment of mediaeval days, 
anyhow,” he added apologetically. 

“ Every man, that is a man, likes Scott,” I re- 
plied. “ And I am delighted to find, Captain, that 
you feel strong enough to enjoy being read to. 
Lady Sibyl, I am sure, will not object to my pres- 
ence during the reading, as she is well aware of my 
excellent qualities as an auditor.” 

This latter remark referred to the days immedi- 
ately preceding Sibyl’s departure for college, when 
she would read to me for hours at a time. Nothing 
gave us such mutual delight; and I saw, at once, 
that my allusion to our favorite pastime had awak- 
ened happy reminiscences. 

“ Would you care to read, Mr. Carlton? ” she in- 
quired with a trace of embarrassment. 

At this, the Captain’s face fell. Evidently, the 
skipper preferred to have his romance from the 
lips of a lovely woman. 

“ No, thank you,” I replied. “ It was always my 
happy privilege to be read to — besides, our patient 
would not agree to any such change of program, I 
am sure.” 


152 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


“ Well, so long as you put it that way,” remarked 
the skipper with a nervous little cough, “ I will say 
that, to me, there is nothing so tender, so appealing, 
so completely captivating, as a woman’s voice when 
she is upon the subject of love — that is, I mean, of 
course, when she is reading about it,” the venerable 
Captain hastened to add with some confusion. 

Both Sibyl and I laughed heartily at the gallant 
old sailor’s evident anxiety not to be misconstrued 
on this most delicate point, and any constraint or 
awkwardness that may have remained in the situ- 
ation was instantly dispelled. And so, for half an 
hour, Sibyl read from that part of Kenilworth which 
tells how Amy Robsart was decoyed to her death 
through the medium of her great love, and her un- 
selfish devotion to Leicester. 

During the reading, the Captain’s face, which had 
been flushed with the excitement incident to our 
conversation, once more assumed the pallor which 
resulted from the aged man’s extreme weakness. 
He gradually sank further back upon the pillows, 
and by the time that the actual tragedy was reached, 
he had lapsed into deep slumber. 

Sibyl was evidently unaware of this, and touch- 
ing her lightly upon the arm, I drew her attention to 


Sibyl and I Lay Plans 


153 


the sleeper. She stopped reading and smiled as she 
looked upon the unconscious face — a smile which 
I fancy the skipper would have given a great deal 
to have beheld. 

“ He is very weak/’ she whispered. 

I nodded, and for some moments sat watching the 
beautiful girl, so graceful in her movements, so full 
of that subtile womanly enchantment which words 
cannot describe, so compassionate, and yet so child- 
like withal. It was the opportunity for which I had 
anxiously waited. I felt that to miss it might be 
disastrous to us both. And yet I was assailed by 
doubts. Would she resent my obtrusion into her 
private affairs? Would she misconstrue my inten- 
tions, my advice, as she had done before, and again 
accuse me of being dictatorial? I was not at all 
confident of the results, but I realized that there 
was too much at stake to consider my personal feel- 
ings in the matter. 

“ Sibyl,” I said softly, and with intense earnest- 
ness, “ you are in great distress — I am convinced of 
it. Won’t you let me help you? ” 

She did not answer, but sat nervously toying with 
the pages of the book in her lap, evincing neither re- 
sentment at my words, nor a disposition to leave me. 


154 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


“ For the sake of bygone days, Sibyl,” I pleaded. 

Her hands clasped together convulsively as, with 
a scarcely audible sigh, she murmured : “ How can 
you help me ? ” 

I needed no further encouragement. The ques- 
tion, itself, was an admission of her despair, and I 
felt that it now rested with me to free her from 
whatever delusions Lesears had created. I was con- 
vinced that I had rightly guessed the nature of these 
delusions ; Sibyl’s distrust of those nearest and dear- 
est to her — the very persons, indeed, who could; and 
who undoubtedly would, have promptly dispelled her 
fears — was sufficient evidence of their nature. With 
this knowledge, however, came an appreciation of 
the extremely delicate situation which resulted. I 
could not turn to the Colonel or his wife for as- 
sistance, much less could I expect Sibyl to confide 
her secret trouble to me. But once having won back 
the implicit faith she always had, as a child, in me, 
I felt that I could then handle the situation from 
Lesears’ end of it with expedition. My dealings 
with that gentleman would be of a far less compli- 
cated character: I, therefore, made no effort to 
learn aught that Lesears had said ; nor, on the other 
hand, did I attempt to conceal my distrust of him. 


Sibyl and I Lay Plans 


155 


“ Sibyl,” I began earnestly, “ do you recall what 
you said in the saloon with regard to Mr. Lesears ? ” 
“ I did not say it was Mr. Lesears.” 

“ But it was he to whom you referred ? ” 

“ Why do you ask ? ” 

“ Because I wish to help you, Sibyl. I do not 
want to intrude upon your private affairs, nor learn 
your secrets. But I know that you are very unhappy 
from what you have already told me. Will you 
not trust me as you did once ? ” 

There was a brief pause during which the girl 
was plainly struggling with indecision. And then: 
“ Yes, it was Mr. Lesears,” she murmured, burying 
her face in her hands. 

“ And you are engaged to him ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ But still you dread marrying him ! ” 

“ Don’t say that ! ” she protested in a strangely 
terrified whisper. “ — Please don’t say that ! ” And 
then, more calmly : “ It is unkind — and you have 
no right to speak of him that way ! ” 

“ I do not wish to be unkind,” I said. “ I merely 
take my inference from what you told me in the 
saloon.” 

“ But why should I dread marrying him ? Please 


156 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

don’t put it that way. I may not be happy in my 
choice, but don’t — don’t use that word, it frightens 
me — besides, it isn’t true ! it isn’t true ! There is no 
reason for me to fear Val ! ” 

“ Sibyl,” I said gravely, “ have you so soon for- 
gotten this morning’s affair in the engine-room, 
when this miscreant made a cold-blooded attempt 
upon my life? ” 

A faint moan escaped from between the trem- 
bling hands which hid her tear-stained face — a moan 
of such deep and despairing anguish that it pierced 
to my heart and overwhelmed me with pity for the 
persecuted girl. I well knew her fearful dilemma — 
Lesears’ threat which sealed her lips, and the fear 
that if he was brought to bay, he would reveal her 
great secret. And now, utterly crushed, with head 
bowed in bitter despair, she sat silently weeping. 

“ Why did you not trust me, Sibyl ? ” I said ten- 
derly, struggling desperately with my own emotions. 

“ Oh, I don’t know! I don’t know! ” she sobbed. 
“It was foolish and wicked of me! You were 
always like a brother, taking away my troubles and 
doing everything to make me happy! But I am 
helpless — utterly helpless, and oh, so miserable ! ” 

“ Never mind, Sib dear,” I said, instinctively laps- 


157 


Sibyl and I Lay Plans 

mg into my way of soothing her when she was a 
child. “You will trust me now, won’t you? And 
let me take away your present troubles, just as I did 
then? ” 

“Oh! if you only could, Edgar — if I could only 
tell you everything, as I used to do! ” she whispered 
passionately. 

I took the small hand that was timidly extended, 
and raised it to my lips. 

“ I think your troubles will vanish,” I said more 
cheerfully, “ if you will give me leave to deal di- 
rectly with Mr. Lesears. No one else shall know 
anything about it, I promise you. Indeed, we must 
both strive to imitate that gentleman’s one commend- 
able characteristic, and appear as cheerful and non- 
chalant as possible.” 

The only answer I was fated to receive was the 
look of gratitude in Sibyl’s beautiful eyes, as she 
turned her tear-stained face up to me and smiled. 
Her hand still rested in mine and she was on the 
point of speaking, when the door was rudely thrust 
open and Lesears entered, anger and astonishment 
written upon every line of his countenance. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


LESEARS TELLS A SNAKE STORY. 

Only for a moment did Lesears' surprise get the 
better of him. Almost immediately his face assumed 
its usual serenity, save for a momentary contortion 
which resulted in his monocle dropping neatly from 
his eye into the upper pocket of his coat (a trick at 
which he was adept). 

“ So when the cat’s asleep the mice will, er — - 
what shall I say?” he drawled, jocosely. “ Ah, 
well! Tout le monde est sage apres coup! as the 
Frenchman aptly puts it.” 

Sibyl had not waited for this witticism, and I 
fear that I would have taken it anything but grace- 
fully, had it not been that the Captain, suddenly 
awakened by the commotion, sat up and stared va- 
cantly about him. My expression instantly changed 
from the frown with which I had welcomed Lesears, 
to an amiable, if somewhat vapid, smile. The effort 
158 


Lesears Tells a Snake Story 159 

was not nearly so great as I had imagined, and, for 
my first attempt at Lesears’ own art, I felt that I had 
been singularly successful. 

“ How do you feel after your sleep, Captain ? ” I 
asked benevolently. 

“ Not so fit! ” he complained. “ Not so fit, my 
boy ! Aye, aye, and that’s the truth of it ! I dreamt 
that there was going to be a fearful catastrophe, and 
woke up too suddenly.” 

“ Perhaps there would have been one, if you 
had slept on,” I replied with a laugh. “ You should 
feel grateful. Captain, that you awoke in time to 
avert it.” 

The skipper smiled innocently enough, but Lesears 
did not fail to perceive the double entendre. Bestow- 
ing upon me a glance full of comprehension, he 
made a quick motion toward the door. It was 
obvious that his intention was to overtake Sibyl 
before she reached her stateroom, and knowing that 
the girl was in no condition to be bullied, I hastily 
conceived a plan to detain him. 

“ Just a moment, Lesears ! ” I called after him. 
“ You might help me to move the Captain into the 
saloon, where he can get a bit of the breeze.” 

Lesears muttered something beneath his breath as 


160 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

he wheeled around, but accepted the situation with 
characteristic urbanity. 

“ It will do you all the good in the world, Cap- 
tain,” I explained. “ You need something to bring 
the color back into your cheeks, and a good sniff 
of salt breeze will do it.” 

“ Aye, aye ! ” said the skipper emphatically. 
“ Never did a man say a truer thing than that ! But, 
God bless you, lad, I’ve got nigh unto two hundred 
and fifty pounds’ displacement in this here hulk! 
And that ain’t reckoning in any cargo or ballast, to 
which I’ve given a wide berth, lately.” 

“ Never fear, we’d move you if you were twice as 
heavy ! ” I replied resolutely. 

I was determined not to let Lesears escape, for 
although Sibyl had had ample time to reach her 
room, I perceived other advantages in moving the 
sick man into the saloon. 

“ Well, well ! ” sighed the skipper gratefully. 
“ There’s no denying that you are a strapping pair 
o’ lads. I wonder, now, which of you two gentlemen 
is the stronger ? ” he added, musingly. 

“ Odds fish, man! ” ejaculated Lesears. “ That’s 
the very thing I was cudgeling my own brains 
about ! ” 


Lesears Tells a Snake Story 161 

He squared himself to his full height as if 
in anticipation of a brush, his dark eyes flash- 
ing dangerouly and his handsome face flushed 
with excitement. I do not think I have ever seen 
a finer specimen of manhood than Lesears pre- 
sented during that one tense moment, when all 
his affectation was thrown aside to give place to a 
defiance which was truly magnificent. This I feel 
compelled to admit, despite what I knew then, and 
what I learned subsequently, of the man’s true 
character. 

“ Well, maybe we’ll settle that question for you 
some day, Captain,” I remarked quietly, accepting 
for a more opportune time the challenge which 
Lesears’ manner implied. 

And a moment later, I could not help noting the 
ease with which my future opponent lifted his end 
of the couch, as we conveyed the injured man from 
the room. It was no light task, as the skipper had 
anticipated, but finally, after staggering awkwardly 
about the heaving floor, we got him comfortably 
situated in the saloon doorway. In this position he 
caught all the breeze that was stirring, and, inci- 
dentally, (although Lesears did not seem to com- 
prehend it at the time) his presence there would ef- 


162 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


fectually prevent my rival from annoying Sibyl as 
she passed between decks. It was at this juncture 
that we were summoned to dinner, thus closing the 
incident to my entire satisfaction. 

Dinner was daintily served by our hostess upon 
the after-deck, and consisted of such canned goods 
as were best eaten cold. In the circumstances, it 
was a most excellent repast, nor was the novelty of 
the situation overlooked in the many witticisms of 
Lesears and our host. 

Sibyl was not present at that memorable meal, 
but appeared later, tempted, no doubt, by the news 
that we had strung several dozen Japanese lanterns 
around the after-deck. These burned steadily, and 
with very picturesque effect, in the still air of the 
tropical evening. And in the mellow light which 
they afforded, the beautiful girl, with her graceful 
figure attired in a filmy evening gown, looked won- 
derfully fairylike and bewitching. Indeed, the whole 
scene was full of enchantment. The ocean, smooth 
as a mirror, reflecting the light of a newly risen full 
moon in a broad path of silver, rolled the yacht 
drowsily on the bosom of its long undulating swell. 
Even the still sultry atmosphere seemed to be heavily 
laden with a mysterious perfume, and I thought, 


Lesears Tells a Snake Story 163 

more than once, that I detected the pungent odor 
of tropical growths. 

The sea-anchor worked admirably, holding the 
vessel's head to the swell, and reducing our drifting 
to a minimum. Singularly enough, it was to Lesears 
that the credit for this ingenious device was due. 
He had set about making it during the afternoon, as 
being his part of the day’s work. It was quite a 
simple contrivance, being merely a square wooden 
frame with a stretch of canvas across it, and a 
weight at one corner to make it float perpendic- 
ularly in the water. A hawser from the yacht’s bow 
was attached to the four corners of the frame, thus 
causing the full width of canvas to resist the water 
as the vessel dragged on it. Like many other simple 
contrivances, it worked a great deal better than do 
most of the more elaborate ones, and its designer 
was justly proud of his achievement. 

Thus we lay like a ship becalmed, our destination 
unknown, even our fate an uncertainty. It was, in- 
deed, a strange denizen of the ocean, this crewless 
yacht, floating idly upon the broad bosom of the 
Atlantic, and drifting no one knew whither. Stran- 
ger still was the complete lack of anxiety on the part 
of those aboard the veritable derelict. But strangest 


164 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

of all was the scene upon the after-deck, with its gay 
and fantastic illumination, and its merry company 
of stylishly gowned women and fashionably attired 
men. No New York drawing-room could have 
boasted a smarter gathering, nor a greater freedom 
from the cares of the morrow. 

Games of all kinds were indulged in, when it was 
found that the night air was inimical to singing. 
Dancing, to the accompaniment of tunes whistled 
by the Colonel, Lesears, and myself, was also at- 
tempted. But this, too, was of short duration, owing 
to the heavy tax it put upon the breath of the musi- 
cians. Nothing dampened the gay spirits of the 
party, however, and it may safely be said that the 
Colonel was never happier in his life. 

Later in the evening, Lesears endeavored to im- 
prove the occasion by recounting many thrilling ex- 
periences he had had while hunting big game in 
India. His manner towards Sibyl was quite above 
criticism, being, indeed, almost obsequious. And 
yet, there was plainly some mysterious communi- 
cation going on between them; or else his words, 
during the recital of his adventures, bore a hidden 
meaning and significance of which the girl alone was 
cognizant. 


Lesears Tells a Snake Story 165 

They sat together in a double wickerwork seat, 
which was so constructed that the back of the chair 
formed the letter “ S.” This design resulted in the 
arm being between them, making impossible any 
communication by touch. Moreover, although 
Lesears had turned so as to face Sibyl, she sat side- 
ways to him, and did not once glance in his direc- 
tion. And yet there were times when the girl would 
evince unmistakable signs of terror, far in excess of 
that which the mere narration of adventures could 
have stirred within her, even had she been deeply 
concerned in the narrator's welfare, which I had 
every reason to believe was not the case. 

Lesears' stories dealt chiefly with tiger hunting, 
but there were several which had to do with the pur- 
suit and capture of large and deadly snakes. It was 
during the recital of these latter experiences that I 
observed a movement on the part of Sibyl which 
compelled me to intervene. 

“ I must request you to stop ! " I exclaimed 
bluntly, addressing myself to Lesears. 

My whole attention was now fixed upon Sibyl, 
who appeared to be struggling with some invisible 
object about her throat. The girl's features were 
not distinguishable in the dim light, but her move- 


166 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

ments were unmistakably those of a person on the 
point of strangulation. I may be inclined to exag- 
gerate the situation, but it seemed as though my deep 
affection made me sensible of Sibyl's distress far 
quicker than was the case even with her guardians. 
No one appeared to realize that aught was wrong, 
until I rose quickly and went to the girl’s side. 

“What is it, dear?” inquired Mrs. Cavashaw. 

For a moment Sibyl sat perfectly motionless. 
Then, with a nervous start, she exclaimed : “ Oh, 
how you startled me, Mr. Carlton ! ” 

“ What is the matter, child? Were you asleep? 99 
repeated Mrs. Cavashaw, now at the girl’s side. 

“ I must have been, mother dear, and dreaming 
too ! Oh, horrible ! horrible ! ” Sibyl gave an hys- 
terical little laugh, and seizing her foster-parent’s 
hand, kissed it impulsively. 

“ Now sit down like a good little mother, and 
don’t make any more fuss about it ! ” she said play- 
fully, leading Mrs. Cavashaw back to her chair. 
“ And was Dad scared too ? ” she added, dabbing a 
little kiss upon the Colonel’s forehead as she passed 
him. 

“ I don’t think any one was scared but our good 
friend, Carlton,” quoth that gentleman, tactlessly. 


Lesears Tells a Snake Story 167 

“ He jumped up as though one of the snakes had 
prodded him through the chair! 

“ Let’s have some other kind of yarn, my boy/’ 
he added, turning to his guest. “ Those snakes of 
yours are too much for the nerves of us poor cast- 
aways. You’ll have us dreaming of sea-serpents 
to-night, if you’re not careful ! ” 

Lesears, who up to this moment had not moved 
a finger, (the more remarkable as he sat next to 
Sibyl, and must have witnessed her distress) gave a 
short dry laugh, and suggested telling us how the 
mongoose pursued its innocent occupation, as a good 
antidote for our snake scare. 

Thus the incident was forgotten, and the re- 
mainder of the evening passed happily enough. 
But upon me the mysterious affair left an impression 
which was far from favorable, although I utterly 
failed to realize its true significance. 

At eleven o’clock the ladies retired, Sibyl bidding 
us good-night first, and the two elderly ladies soon 
following. In spite of her experience, Sibyl seemed 
to be in an unusually happy mood, chatting with 
both Lesears and myself as freely as though nothing 
untoward had occurred. If she was playing the part 
of nonchalance that I had advised earlier in the even- 


168 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

ing, she certainly was doing it to perfection — much 
better than I should have given her credit for, know- 
ing her to be of an exceptionally naive disposition. 
Indeed, had it not been for the slight but meaningful 
pressure which she gave my hand, upon bidding me 
good-night, I should have doubted her loyalty to the 
resolutions she had made. As it was, however, I at- 
tributed her gay spirits to the simple and childlike 
faith in others, which so often is a characteristic of 
the impulsive and highly emotional girl. She had 
unburdened her woes upon me, and now she felt en- 
tirely free of them and of all responsibility in con- 
nection with them. 

Thus I accounted for Sibyl’s singular change of 
mood, and having disposed of all doubts and appre- 
hensions with such personal credit, I foolishly be- 
came blind to what would otherwise have been an 
ample warning of that which was soon to follow. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


SIBYL DROPS HER KEY. 

For some time the Colonel, Lesears, and I sat 
smoking our pipes, and enjoying the cool breeze that 
had sprung up from the northeast, in almost com- 
plete silence. I think that in the absence of the 
cheerful and stimulating effect of the ladies’ com- 
pany, we each of us began to realize the precarious- 
ness of our position, and secretly to weigh our 
chances of escape. 

Lesears, especially, appeared to be in an exceed- 
ingly restless state of mind. He went below several 
times on various pretenses. Once it was for cig- 
arettes; another time, to see if the Captain needed 
anything to add to his comfort ; and again, for ma- 
rine glasses, with which to search for a light that he 
averred had appeared to westward of us. On each 
occasion, however, he returned empty-handed, ex- 
ceedingly perturbed, and apparently without another 
thought concerning his ostensible mission. 

169 


170 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

When he appeared without the marine glasses, 
the Colonel seemed suddenly to become aware of his 
extraordinary behavior. 

“ How about those glasses, Lesears ? ” he asked, 
in his droll way. 

“ Hang it! Forgot all about the bally things! ” 
was the reply. 

He did not offer to get them, nor did he seem to 
remember his statement regarding the light. Sitting 
uneasily in his chair, he drummed nervously upon 
the arms with his long and rather bony fingers. 

The Colonel eyed his guest fixedly for some mo- 
ments. And then an amused smile stole over his 
amiable countenance. 

“ Why, man, you’ve scared yourself with your 
own snake yarns ! ” he exclaimed with an explosive 
laugh. “ By thunder ! Lesears, I wasn’t over- 
pleased at the way the little girl succumbed to ’em, 
but now I see that my sympathy was misplaced. 
Come now, own up to it ! ” 

Lesears gave the speaker a quick glance from un- 
der lowered brows, and then, somewhat dramatic- 
ally, joined in the laugh. It was plainly an effort, 
and seemed to be done as much for my benefit as the 
Colonel’s. 


Sibyl Drops Her Key 


171 


“ Snakes be d d ! ” he said, with a vehemence 

that was as uncalled for as it was inculpatory. 
“ What gets on my nerves, Cavashaw, is this in- 
fernal drifting business! I don’t like it — not half! 
It’s all well enough while we are sitting here star- 
gazing, but, hang it all, I’ll tell you straight, I’m in 
a blue funk about turning in. Reckon I’ll stay up on 
watch — how will that suit? ” 

“ Very good of you, my dear fellow, but quite un- 
necessary,” replied the Colonel. “ We shall have an 
officer on the bridge during the entire night — a born 
sailor at that, eh, Carlton? ” 

“ Whom do you mean ? ” snapped Lesears. 
“Captain Spike, if you please!” replied the 
Colonel, with impressive dignity. 

“ What do you want to do that for? ” demanded 
his guest, with a sudden flash of anger. Then, 
quickly recovering himself : “ That lad is an imp 

of Satan,” he drawled. “ You ought not to trust the 
young monkey that way, Cavashaw. He’ll drown 
us all before morning with his accursed tricks! ” 
“Tricks?— never! Why, the boy’s got no sense 
of humor. Never saw him play a trick in the five 
years I’ve had him ! ” 

“You haven’t, eh? Well, the little brat has got 


172 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

more cunning than I gave him credit for. You 
should have seen the way he frightened your daugh- 
ter, this afternoon. Crept out from under the table, 
making faces and grinning like a bally ape — scared 
her no end ! ” 

“Well, let me catch him at it, that’s all!” ex- 
claimed the Colonel, threateningly. 

“ Right-o ! I’ll tell him to keep it up next time 
until I bring you,” was his facetious friend’s re- 
joinder. 

At this point, finding that it was almost midnight, 
I left the two arguing, and went to summon the 
much talked about boy and put him on watch. I 
had no idea why Lesears should wish to be left upon 
the bridge through the night, but the mere fact that 
he had evinced such a desire, was sufficient to con- 
vince me that it was for no good purpose. I there- 
fore determined that our original plan should be ad- 
hered to at all costs, and that Spike should be posted 
upon the bridge with instructions to report anything 
unusual direct to the Colonel, down the speaking- 
tube. 

With my thoughts thus occupied, I forgot, for the 
moment, that I had given Spike permission to sleep 
in the mate’s room amidships, and went to the fore- 


Sibyl Drops Her Key 


173 


castle, in search of the lad. Realizing my mistake, 
I started aft along the lower deck, but I had not 
taken many steps before I heard something that 
made me proceed more cautiously. In the profound 
stillness that existed below decks, as a result of stop- 
ping the engines, there fell upon my ears the sound 
of a voice, muttering something with strange pre- 
cision and with weird monotony of utterance. Nor 
did the intense darkness by which I was surrounded, 
tend to make the diabolical words any the less terri- 
fying. 

“ Tell — me — where — the — money — is — 
hid — ye — lubber — or — by — heaven — ye — * 
shall — dangle — from — the — yard — arm — 
while — your — pretty — daughter — makes — 
love — to — me — I’ll — give — ye — until — I — 
count — five — before — the — lads — hoist — ye 

— aloft — d ye — hear ? — one — two — three — 
{oar — but — at — that — instant — a — cry — of 

— terror — burst — from — every — throat — as 

— the — Phantom — Ship — was — seen — not — 
twenty — yards — abeam — and — headed — 
straight — for — the — Black — Terror — the — 
beautiful — maiden — her — virgin — bosom — 
still — heaving — under — the — brutality — of — 


174 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


the — pirate’s — words — clasped — her — hands 

— in — a — fervent — prayer — as — the — grey 

— T-R-A-N-S-L-U-C-E-N-T — trans — lu — cent 

— bow — of — the — Phantom — Ship ” 

But, by this time, I had gained the door of the 

mate’s cabin, whence issued the blood-curdling 
words, and thrusting it open, I stepped in unan- 
nounced. 

“ Why didn’t you sleep while you had the chance, 
my boy ? ” I demanded of Spike, who was sitting up 
in his bunk, holding a dilapidated paper-back novel 
in one hand and a candle in the other. 

At the sound of my voice, the lad dropped the 
book and the candle simultaneously, and from the 
squirming which ensued in the darkness, it was evi- 
dent that he had sought refuge beneath the bed- 
clothes. 

“ Come, Spike,” I said, shaking the undulating 
mass upon the bunk, “ no one is going to harm you 
— come, get up out of there ! ” 

“ Who is it? ” challenged a smothered voice from 
somewhere near the foot of the bunk. 

“ Mr. Carlton,” I replied, giving the mound of 
clothes another shake. “ We require you to go on 
watch now, Spike. And mind,” I added sternly, as 


175 


Sibyl Drops Her Key 

a series of snorts signified the emergence of a head, 
“ there must be no sleeping on the bridge, nor read- 
ing, either ! ” 

I recovered the candle and lit it, as the lad tum- 
bled sheepishly out of his bunk. 

“ I ain’t a wanting ter sleep until it’s daylight, 
nohow ! ” he said sulkily. And then, gaining con- 
fidence, albeit glancing furtively toward the door, 
he added : “ Gee ! but I thought as you wus that 

furriner come for to fix me. He said as he’d fix me 
sure, next time he catched me spying on ’im.” 

“Well, were you spying?” I asked. 

“ Sure thing ! sir, I was spying on the guy, all 
right!” 

He gave me a knowing wink and drawing closer, 
placed his hand to the side of his mouth : “ Beggin’ 
yer pardon, Mr. Carlton, sir, but say ! you ain’t stay- 
ing awake nights on account of yer love fer that 
furrin bloke, are yer, sir? Leastwise, yer’d give ’im 
the icy mitt, all right, if he wus after gettin’ fresh, 
wouldn’t yer, sir? ” 

“ Well, what about it, Spike? ” I said, smiling, in 
spite of myself, at the lad’s correct reading of human 
nature. 

Taking courage at my attitude, he continued in a 


176 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

half frightened whisper, ever and anon stealing to 
the door to make sure that the enemy was not eaves- 
dropping. 

“ I ain’t wanting to say anything agin the Col- 
onel’s friends,” he said, “ but that there furrin guy is 
a crook, he ain’t no friend of the Colonel’s. They 
wus wise to that much down in the fo’castle. Bill 
said onced as he’d beat ’im up if he ever showed 
himself for’d, jest out o’ respect for you and the old 
man, he says . . . 

“ Never mind what Bill said,” I interrupted. 
“ Let me hear why you think Mr. Lesears is a 
crook.” 

“ You won’t split on me, will yer, sir? ” 

I looked at the boy for some moments in doubt. 
It was evident that he had something of importance 
to communicate, or he would not have dared to 
speak so disrespectfully of his employer’s guest. 
And yet I doubted the wisdom of thus fraternizing 
with the lad. 

“ See here, Spike,” I said, finally, “ if you have 
aught against Mr. Lesears, and you feel that you 
have just cause to complain, why don’t you shoulder 
the responsibility like a man and go straight to the 
Colonel with it! I have no doubt he will listen to 


177 


Sibyl Drops Her Key 

you; but if not, I shall probably feel inclined to say 
a word for you myself. Anyway, I’ll see that you 
don’t get into trouble with Mr. Lesears through fol- 
lowing my advice.” 

“ Thank you, sir; it’s very kind of you, and just 
what Bill always said you’d do fer any one of us in 
the fo’castle. But, lor’ love you, sir ! I ain’t a wor- 
ry in’ about wot the guy’ll do to me. I ain’t afraid 
of ’im, so long as ’e don’t sneak on me from behind. 
It’s the young lady as I’m a worryin’ about ! ” 

“ Miss Sibyl, do you mean? ” , 

“ Sure ! I don’t t’ink the old man — beggin’ yer 
pardon, sir, I mean the Colonel — I don’t t’ink as he 
knows the way this furrin Hindu treats the young 
lady. It’s fierce ! ” 

“ What do you mean?” I demanded sharply. 

“ I don’t mean nothin’, sir, if he’s a friend of 
yourn ! ” the lad replied sullenly, evidently misled by 
the tone of my inquiry. 

“ No, no, Spike; you misunderstand me,” I said 
reassuringly. “ You have nothing to fear from me. 
Tell me all you know about the matter — and mind 
I want to hear it all! There was some talk of your 
being under the saloon table, and frightening Miss 
Sibyl ; let me hear your side of it.” 


178 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

“ I weren’t under no table, and it weren’t me wot 
scared the young lady, neither ! ” was the indignant 
retort. “ I was sittin’ right here, eating me grub wot 
the missis give me along about noon, when I hears 
the Hindu out in the passage there. He wus speak- 
ing to some one in a way yer wouldn’t catch me 
speaking to a dog. ‘ You’ll do it, if I’ve got to 

make yer do it, d n yer ! ’ he says, as he passed 

this ’ere door. Then I heard the young lady’s voice 
saying somethin’, and she was crying. * Gee ! ’ I 
says to myself, * it’s Miss Sibyl that guy’s talking 
to ! ’ I couldn’t hear wot the poor young lady was 
saying, but the furriner turns and says, nasty like: 
‘Yer won’t, won’t yer?’ 

“ Then they wus so quiet that I wondered wot was 
up, and sneaked to the door. I took a peep down the 
passage, and seed them sitting at the saloon table, 
the young lady on one side and the Hindu on the 
other. He weren’t doing nothin’ but staring at her. 
But, gee! I ain’t seed a feller stare at a goil like 
that before. His eyes scared me stiff, but I couldn’t 
stop looking at ’em. Bill said onced as this furrin 
guy asked ’im if he had ever heard how the Hindus 
hypnotize people. ‘ No,’ says Bill, innocent-like. 

‘ Well, don’t let me have ter show yer,’ says the 


Sibyl Drops Her Key 


179 


furriner, ‘ or you’ll drown yerself before yer know 
it — see ! ’ And Bill said ’e felt a creepy feeling all 

the way down his back and ” 

“ Never mind about Bill ! ” I exclaimed impa- 
tiently. “ What else did you see ? ” 

“ There weren’t much else I seed, sir, but I heard 
somethin’. He just stared at Miss Sibyl without so 
much as moving an eyelid, but I knew, somehow, 
that he’d seen me. I felt the same as ’ow Bill says 
he felt — creepy like. I had me head stuck out at the 
bottom of that door and, gee! I couldn’t pull it in 
again, s’elp me, sir ! But the Hindu didn’t take his 
eyes off the young lady, for all that ; and I never seed 
eyes, ’cept cat’s eyes, like his were. Suddenly the 
young lady screamed and jumped to her feet, mak- 
ing as ’ow she was trying to pull something away 
from her throat. I didn’t see nothing there, but the 
poor young lady did. ‘Yes, yes, I will, I will!’ 
she says, gasping like as if she was choking. But 
the Hindu didn’t move — he just smiled when he 
heard her say that — and then she fell across the 
table as if she was fainted. . . 

“Well, Spike — go on!” I commanded impa- 
tiently, as the lad stopped for some incomprehensible 
reason. 


180 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

“ I wus on me hands and knees with me head 
stuck out in the passage, and s’elp me, sir, I couldn’t 
move fer the life of me! The furriner come over 
and grabbed me by the collar, and yanked me into 
the saloon just as the missis come running in, hear- 
ing the young lady scream. ‘ Here’s the young ras- 
cal,’ he says. ‘ Wot shall I do with ’im? ’ ‘ I ain’t 
done nothing,’ says I. ‘ Wot ! ’ says he, shaking me 
so hard that me teeth rattled. ‘ You ain’t done 
nothin’, eh ? Well, yer pretty near scared this young 
lady into hysterics, with yer confounded monkey 
tricks ! ’ ‘ I ain’t done nothin’, mum,’ I says, turning 
to the missis. But she was busy soothing the young 
lady, and just told me to hold my tongue and go 
about my work. Then the Hindu feller grabbed me 
by the neck again, and yanked me to the door. 

* Take that fer yer pains! ’ says he, and landed me 
a kick. * And look here ! ’ he says, grabbin’ me again 
before I could get me feet. ‘ Let me catch yer 

spying on me again, and I’ll break yer d d 

neck!”’ 

“ Well, is that all, Spike? ” I said, for the lad had 
ceased speaking and was glancing sheepishly about 
him. 

“ Yessir, — at least, not quite all, sir,” he replied 


181 


Sibyl Drops Her Key 

guiltily. “ I got mad, and called ’im somethin’. I 
shouldn’t ought ter have done it, sir, but ” 

“ Never mind. We won’t recall that.” 

" And when I got away from ’im, I said as ’ow 
I’d tell Mr. Carlton, and he laughed, and ” 

“ Yes, what then? ” 

“ Well, he said somethin’ about yer, sir.” 

“ What was it, Spike?” 

“ He called yer a fool, sir, and then said somethin’ 
I don’t like ter tell yer.” 

“ But why didn’t you let me know all this at the 
time — when you brought my lunch, for instance ? ” 

“ I didn’t dare, sir! ” 

“ Well, Spike,” I said, after a moment’s reflection, 
“ you go and report to the Colonel now, and tell 
him that you are ready to take your watch upon the 
bridge.” 

“ Yessir.” 

“ And I shall probably want to have a word with 
you later, concerning what you have just told me.” 

“ Yessir.” And touching his forelock, the boy 
left me, going to the deck by the forward com- 
panionway, while I went aft through the saloon. 

It was my intention to ask Captain Watterson if 
he had heard anything that would verify the lad’s 


182 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

story. But finding that the old seaman had been 
moved back to his cabin, I was obliged to abandon 
the idea, as I wished to reach the deck at about the 
same time as did Spike. 

I should not have been inclined to take the cabin- 
boy's story seriously, savoring as it did of a sailor's 
superstitions, had it not been that I myself had wit- 
nessed Sibyl similarly affected that very evening 
upon the after-deck. At the time, I had attributed 
it merely to her hysterical condition, in conjunction 
with the abhorrent subject. But I now realized that 
the cause might lie very much deeper than that. I 
was familiar with the phenomenal psychic powers 
possessed by many of the natives of India, having 
witnessed numerous demonstrations of it while 
traveling in that country. But Lesears had always 
consistently and, indeed, vehemently denied that he 
was Eurasiatic ; and his word had been generally ac- 
cepted, despite his features and complexion. Here 
was an occurrence, however, which was hard to rec- 
oncile with anything short of hypnotism. And if 
hypnotism it proved to be, then much would be 
accounted for, in connection with Lesears, that 
had hitherto been unexplainable. Nevertheless, I 
wished, if possible, to verify the boy's story before 


Sibyl Drops Her Key 


183 


bringing Lesears to account, as I now determined 
to do at the first opportunity. It had been my pre- 
vious intention to wait until we reached land, be- 
fore precipitating a condition which I knew would 
be intolerable at sea. Once on shore, I had decided 
to give Lesears the option of taking peremptory 
leave of the party, or of being arrested for attempted 
murder. But with Sibyl in personal danger from 
the brute, I felt that there must be no further delay. 

As a result of these reflections I quietly ascended 
the saloon stairs and stood in the doorway, bent on 
hearing what was said when the boy put in an ap- 
pearance. If Spike had lied to me, and had actually 
been guilty of frightening Miss Cavashaw, then it 
would be the most natural thing in the world for 
Lesears openly to accuse him of it before the Col- 
onel. But if, on the other hand, the cabin-boy’s 
story was true, then it was not likely that Lesears 
would bring the matter up in the lad’s presence. 

Thus I decided to judge the value of what I had 
heard in connection with Lesears’ treatment of 
Sibyl ; and hardly had I arrived at the decision, be- 
fore a voice became audible, raised to a high pitch 
of anger. Stepping out on deck, I stood in the 
shadow of the superstructure. It was Lesears who 


184 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

was speaking, and he held Spike by the collar, giv- 
ing him a vicious shake for every word. There was 
no doubting the man’s sincerity; both his voice and 
his manner were indicative of the most intense in- 
dignation. Moreover, when he had finished his ac- 
cusations, and the Colonel asked Spike if he had any 
explanation to offer, the lad merely blurted out that 
he had not intended to frighten the young lady, etc., 
etc. 

I turned away in disgust and mounted the bridge, 
where I was soon joined by the youthful culprit 
whimpering like a schoolboy. I made no reference 
to the affair, as I was unwilling, in the circum- 
stances, to let the boy know that I had been eaves- 
dropping. And as he volunteered no information, 
I was quite satisfied that the really dramatic story 
he had told in the mate’s cabin was but the product 
of a too fertile imagination. 

I remained on the bridge for half an hour after 
the Colonel and Lesears had gone below, in order to 
be sure that the latter did not return. And then, 
with a final, and perhaps unnecessarily sharp in- 
junction to Spike that he attend strictly to duty, I 
went to my cabin. 

With no intention of retiring, I flung myself 


Sibyl Drops Her Key 


185 


into a chair, fully dressed, to drop off almost imme- 
diately into a doze. 

I awoke suddenly, indeed, with a start. It was 
two o’clock. I had no knowledge of what had 
awakened me, and yet I was vaguely conscious that 
something had dropped with a metallic sound. 

To satisfy a growing curiosity, I hunted about my 
room in search of the object, and not finding any- 
thing, I opened the door. Lying upon the sill was 
a key. This was undoubtedly the object that I had 
heard drop, and I picked it up with mingled feelings 
of apprehension and curiosity. 

Upon the ivory tag was inscribed the number of 
Sibyl’s room. 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE MIDNIGHT ENCOUNTER IN THE SALOON. 

Amid a host of speculative hypotheses as to how, 
at this hour, Sibyl’s key came to be dropped where 
I had discovered it, I do not think that I was guilty, 
for a moment, of attaching to the incident any un- 
due significance. Indeed, I proceeded to act upon a 
vastly different theory. Sibyl’s sudden change from 
the very depths of despair to a state almost border- 
ing on frivolity, now seemed to point to a far graver 
cause than that to which I had attributed it. True, 
it was possibly but the reaction of her hysterical 
condition earlier in the evening. But, in the fright- 
ful uncertainty of the moment, there crowded into 
my mind innumerable parallel cases where persons 
who contemplated self-destruction had appeared 
similarly light-hearted prior to the act. Sibyl would 
be obliged to pass my door to reach the deck, and if 
she was bent on committing this dreadful deed, it 
was quite likely that she would lock her door as a 
precautionary measure. 


186 


The Midnight Encounter in the Saloon 187 


I did not stop to reason further; several minutes 
had already elapsed since the dropping of the key 
had awakened me. But I had no sooner started for 
the deck in an agony of haste, than I received a 
warning to proceed more cautiously. 

Continuing noiselessly down the passage, I 
reached the saloon, and came to a sudden stop in the 
doorway. Under the dim lamp which swung in the 
center of the room stood Lesears, bending over the 
slim white form of Sibyl. The girl was seated at 
the table, her drooping head, with its luxuriant mass 
of tumbled hair, resting upon her arms which 
stretched out in pathetic and mute appeal. 

The thick carpet had deadened the sound of my 
approach, and for a brief space of time Lesears re- 
mained unaware of my presence. 

“ Wake up, confound you ! ” he whispered 
harshly, raising the girl's head and passing his hand 
rapidly across her eyes. “ You have obeyed the 
summons to come to me; now you must obey the 
command to wake up — do you hear ? ” 

He gave a quick glance around the room, as if 
contemplating a new move, and immediately dis- 
covered my presence. 

For a moment we stood with eyes fixed upon one 


188 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

another in deadly and undisguised hatred. And 
then : 

“ Hello ! ” he exclaimed, with a ridiculous leer. 
“ Here’s a fine state of affairs! Miss Sibyl’s a som- 
nambulist, blest if she isn’t! I was awakened by a 
noise ” 

I had advanced until I was close upon him. 

“Liar!” I interrupted vehemently. I could not 
trust myself to further speech. 

Lesears backed away from me, a dangerous glitter 
in his small snake-like eyes, while his hand flew 
quickly to his side. 

With a leap I was upon him, grasping his right 
wrist and struggling fiercely for the possession of 
the long, keen-edged stiletto he had drawn. Back 
and forth we swayed without a sound, save for our 
labored breathing. Both of us realized that it was 
a fight to the death, unless some one intervened. 
And so anxious were we that this should not occur, 
that oaths were muttered under breath, and we mu- 
tually avoided, by tacit agreement, the stained por- 
tion of the floor which was not covered by the rug. 
Once, we reeled against the table, but that piece of 
furniture being secured to the floor, no noise re- 
sulted, nor did the unconscious girl move. 



“With a leap i was upon him .” — Page 188. 
















































































4 























* 




The Midnight Encounter in the Saloon 189 

It was a tragic scene this one enacted in the cabin 
of a yacht, helplessly adrift on the broad Atlantic. 
Even in the fury of the struggle, the thought held a 
fascination for me. The picture was complete. 
And so vividly is it depicted in my memory that, as 
I write, I have but to close my eyes to see again the 
dimly lighted saloon wherein two men are strug- 
gling, in all the deadly fury of human hatred, around 
the unconscious form of a girl, whose glistening 
hair, tumbled in beautiful confusion, only partly 
conceals the delicate exquisiteness of the white arms 
which stretch pathetically, despairingly, across the 
table. 

Thus we fought in the terrific heat of a tropical 
night, our breath coming in heavy gasps as each 
grew perceptibly weaker. At length, my right hand 
found my opponent’s throat. He had managed to 
force the knife behind my back, and I realized that 
something would have to be done quickly, as my 
left arm was rapidly weakening in the position 
which this move had placed it. With all my remain- 
ing strength I closed my fingers about his throat, at 
the same time contriving to trip him with my foot. 
But with my support thus made insecure, I was a 
ready victim to the vessel’s rolling and, before I 


190 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


realized my danger, I fell backwards with Lesears on 
top of me, his stiletto ripping my coat and inflicting 
a flesh-wound behind my left shoulder. 

Simultaneously, there came a shrill cry from the 
deck above. A cry of abject terror, it was ; but, in 
the more or less incoherent shouting which followed, 
I distinguished the words “ Phantom Ship ” and my 
worst fears were immediately allayed. 

With an oath, Lesears leaped to his feet. Whether 
in actual dread of disaster, or fearing to be caught 
red-handed by others of the party when they 
emerged from their rooms, I am unable to say, but 
he dashed across the saloon and up the stairs to the 
deck, without once looking back. So precipitant 
was his flight, that he abandoned to my safe keeping 
the murderous weapon with which he had attacked 
me, and I hastily pocketed it. 

I, too, saw the urgency for prompt action. In 
a very few moments the entire party would be out of 
their staterooms, and passing through the saloon to 
reach the deck. Sibyl could not be discovered there 
in her present plight. It was impossible ! No man- 
ner of explanations would suffice to allay grave sus- 
picions. 

In an instant I had the unconscious girl in my 


The Midnight Encounter in the Saloon 191 

arms, and was making my way along the passage to 
her stateroom. This necessitated passing all the 
other rooms, and as I did so I heard the occupants 
of each bestirring themselves in their anxiety to get 
out on deck. It was a desperate chance to take, 
but I realized that to get Sibyl back into her room 
before the others emerged from theirs, was the only 
way to save the girl from an intolerable situation. 

In my exhausted condition the burden was no 
light one, and the limp form almost slipped from my 
arms, as I fumbled franticly with the key in an ef- 
fort to open the door. Nor was this accomplished 
a moment too soon, for, as I entered the room, I 
heard the Coloners voice in the passage, calling ex- 
citedly to every one to get quickly up on deck. For- 
tunately, he did not stay to see his commands obeyed, 
but rushed down the passage along which I had 
come only a few seconds before. 

Tenderly laying Sibyl in her bunk, I closed the 
stateroom door quietly, and sped after the Colonel. 
There was little doubt in my mind that the alarm 
would prove to be a false one — the result, probably, 
of Spike’s having fallen asleep on post, and dreamt 
of his Phantom Ship. I felt it to be extremely un- 
likely that another vessel would be in the vicinity. 


192 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

without blowing its horn or warning us with its 
bell ; and there was no sound of either. Indeed, my 
only anxiety had been to get Sibyl out of her pre- 
dicament, and now that this was successfully ac- 
complished, I acted merely out of curiosity in obey- 
ing the order to get up on deck. But a surprise 
awaited me. 

When I reached the head of the companionway, 
the Colonel was standing at the starboard rail, shad- 
ing his eyes in an endeavor to pierce the surround- 
ing gloom. Lesears was nowhere in evidence. 

“ By thunder, that kid’s got eyes in his head, 
after all ! ” exclaimed my host, upon seeing me. 
“ What do you make of that, Carlton ? Spike’s up 
the rigging there yelling that it’s the Phantom Ship, 
or something on that order.” 

He pointed westward, and after straining my 
eyes for some moments, I discovered, dimly out- 
lined in the darkness, a huge black object, lying dead 
abeam of us. This, I knew, was what the Colonel 
referred to, but my attention was also caught by 
something which, to me, was of far greater signifi- 
cance. The small boat had been lowered during 
the night, and now floated at the stern with oars in 
the rowlocks ready for immediate use. The Colonel 


The Midnight Encounter in the Saloon 193 

apparently had not noticed this, or else he saw no 
reason for attaching to the incident any importance. 

“ Well, Colonel,” said I, “ if yonder object is the 
Phantom Ship, it’s got a good healthy smell of land 
about it! Can’t you smell the seaweed? In my 
opinion, it behooves us to drop anchor, before we 
drift ashore ! ” 

I said nothing about the small boat, as it was ob- 
viously Lesears’ work — part of the dastardly plot 
which I had frustrated. In this boat he had evidently 
planned to place Sibyl, and make good his escape 
to shore while we all slept. And I now saw, very 
clearly, the cause of his peculiar behavior the pre- 
vious evening, of his restlessness towards midnight, 
and of his objection to Spike’s being left upon watch. 

“ Guess you’re right, my boy ! ” replied the Col- 
onel reflectively. “ It’s land, a couple of miles or 
more away, but near enough, heaven knows! I’ll 
drop the anchor, while you run below and tell mother 
and the girls that there’s no danger. I’m afraid I 
scared ’em a bit before coming up.” 

I lost no time in executing the Colonel’s orders, 
for I was far from being at ease regarding Sibyl 
myself. Nor was I surprised to find the ladies in 
Sibyl’s room, all talking at once, and in a high state 


194 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

of excitement. But the sound of the girl’s voice re- 
stored my confidence, and I delivered the Colonel’s 
message, calling it through the door with the added 
assurance that we should all be on shore within a few 
hours. 

It was then that I discovered the injury to my 
shoulder, and recalled having felt a sharp pain in my 
back as I fell with Lesears. Upon examining the 
wound, however, in my stateroom, I found it to be 
a mere scratch a couple of inches long, which had 
become painful through irritation. I was ex- 
ceedingly glad that it proved to be so slight, for had 
I been obliged to seek assistance, the whole affair 
must inevitably have come to light. Nothing would 
have been more unfortunate at this time, as another 
day would rid us of the Colonel’s guest, — I had 
reason to be certain of that ! 

Nevertheless, I found it extremely awkward, if 
not well nigh impossible, to bandage the wounded 
shoulder myself. I made several vain attempts, and 
was just on the point of abandoning the task and re- 
turning to the deck, when there came a light knock 
upon the door, accompanied by the voice of no less 
a person than Lesears, requesting admission in the 
most amicable tones. 


CHAPTER XXL 


LESEARS PAYS ME A VISIT. 

I had confidently supposed that Lesears would 
contrive to keep out of my way during the few re- 
maining hours that we should be confined to the 
yacht — a supposition which had been strengthened 
by his nonappearance on deck at the time of Spike's 
alarm. I had even thought it possible (and irony of 
which Lesears was quite equal) that he might an- 
ticipate, by a few hours, the subitaneous departure 
which I was determined he should take the moment 
we landed, and row quietly ashore in the boat he had 
made ready for Sibyl and himself. Certainly, I did 
not expect to be exchanging pleasantries with him 
in my stateroom, within a few minutes of our des- 
perate fight. And yet that is precisely what hap- 
pened. 

But, although this new move on the part of 
Lesears surprised me somewhat, I nevertheless real- 
195 


196 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


ized that it was quite consistent with the treacherous 
fellow’s previous methods. His policy — and not an 
unsuccessful one — had been to laugh in the face of 
the gravest suspicions; and I did not doubt for a 
moment that his present visit, despite the heinous- 
ness of his offense, was for the same purpose. He 
well knew that I was powerless to say aught to the 
Colonel concerning the affair in the saloon without 
bringing Sibyl’s name into it — and it was safe to 
assume that I would not do that under any circum- 
stances. Having thus reason to believe that I was 
perfectly harmless, indeed, checkmated, he had come, 
with characteristic audacity, either to enjoy the situ- 
ation or, worse still, to make an effort to mend it. 
In either case, I was determined that he should find 
me fully prepared for him, and to his second knock 
I promptly responded. 

“ Come in,” I called pleasantly. 

Lesears entered, to find me struggling into my 
clothes. 

“ My dear fellah ! ” he cried effusively, “ pray do 
excuse this brutal intrusion into the sanctity of your 
boudoir! I swear I had no idea you were dressing.” 
And then, in a tone of admirable solicitude : “ By 
Jove, o’man, there is blood on your shoulder ! How 


Lesears Pays Me a Visit 197 

the dickens did your razor manage to get around 
there?” 

I smiled at my interrogator sarcastically. “ The 
same way that your collar appears to have left finger- 
marks upon your throat, Lesears,” I replied, noticing 
the dull red patches on his neck. 

“ The devil, you say ! In that little set-to we had, 
eh? Wearing your scarf-pin at the back of your 
neck, I suppose. There’s a rum one for you! Or. 
maybe, your tie got twisted foreside to the rear in 
the scrum, eh, o’man — shouldn’t wonder. Gad, but 
you’re a spontaneous beggah, no end! Hadn’t the 
slightest idea you intended to carry out your promise 
to the Captain, and try your strength with me. 
So precipitant, y’know — so doocedly precipitant! 
Wanted to catch me unawares, I’ll bet, and then tell 
the skipper you’d thrown me, eh, o’man? How’s 
that for Machiavellism, what ! . . .” 

I waited until he had quite concluded his pleo- 
nastic ramble, and then I said, bluntly : “ Look here, 
Lesears, if you have aught to say that’s worth listen- 
ing to, let’s have it! I’ve no time to waste down 
here, notwithstanding the allurement of your pleas- 
ant company.” 

“ Quite right, o’man ! ” was the cheerful response. 


198 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

“ You go right ahead and dress. No objection to my 
sitting here and chatting, while you’re at it, is 
there?” 

“ None, whatever, if you’ll make yourself useful 
meanwhile — never mind the ‘ chatting.’ ” 

“ Useful ? Certainly, o’man, by all means ! Lor' 
bless me, what a fool I was for not having thought 
of it before ! Why, I’d make a bully good valet — 
where will you have me begin? ” 

“ On my shoulder,” said I, grimly. “ Here, take 
this stuff and bandage it.” 

He did as I bade him, chatting incessantly the 
while, but arranging a bandage on my shoulder 
which would have done credit to a physician. 

“ Now,” said I, when I had thanked him for his 
truly valuable services, “ I have got to turn in and 
work; we must have steam up to land. So if you 
have not fulfilled the object of your visit, Lesears, do 
so now, before I am obliged to leave you.” 

“ Yes, yes, of course! By Jove, I had quite for- 
gotten that you were our engineer. Dooced good 
of you, I call it! And now I come to think of it, 
o’man, I had intended to ask you if you had picked 
up a penknife anywhere? ” 

I gazed at the fellow fixedly for several seconds 


Lesears Pays Me a Visit 199 

before I answered. Not so much as an eyelid 
winced. 

“ I found a stiletto — if that’s what you mean?” 
I said bluntly. 

“ A stiletto — good heavens ! Ah, I perceive you 
are joking. Beastly droll of you, o’chap, what ! No, 
no, this was no ‘ stiletto,’ or whatever you call it — 
hardly!” 

“ Describe it then.” 

“ Oh, mine was just a single-bladed knife, the 
same as any sailor keeps about his person — only a 
trifle better than the average, y’know. Had it 
given to me, in fact, or I shouldn’t care a hang — 
name on the handle, and all that sort of thing, 
y’know.” 

“ Exactly. That’s the very one I found, Lesears.” 

“ No, really — where ? ” 

“ In my back ! ” I replied, grimly. “ Where else 
do you suppose you left it? ” 

I am unable to say just what Lesears’ purpose was 
in thus burlesquing so real a tragedy. It is incred- 
ible that he sought to persuade me that it was a mere 
accident. And yet his face was the picture of genu- 
ine astonishment and offended dignity, as a result of 
my words. 


200 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


“ Good heavens ! ” he exclaimed. “ What a droll 
sense of humor you have, o’man ! ” 

“ I fail to see any humor in it, Lesears, ,, I 
replied. 

“ Nor I, if you persist in rubbing it in! — But it’s 
rot talking this way. Let me see the knife, and if 
it’s mine ” 

“ Lesears,” I interrupted sharply, “ I have not the 
time, nor have I the inclination to indulge in this 
foolishness. The knife is safer in my keeping than 
in yours — so let it go at that ! ” 

I opened the door, and stood aside to allow my 
visitor to pass out. Still he hesitated, casting a swift 
glance around the room. 

“ But, I say, o’man,” he persisted, “ it would be 
beastly rough on me, by Jove, if any one else should 
see you with it. Might convey quite a wrong im- 
pression, y’know. Don’t you see my name is on the 

handle of the bally thing, and ” 

“So much the better!” I ejaculated. “It will 
make a pretty piece of evidence. And as for it con- 
veying a wrong impression, I’ll give you my word 
that it shall not do that. I shall take particular pains, 
in fact, to explain just how I came by it, when the 
pfoper time comes. Besides,” I added significantly, 


Lesears Pays Me a Visit 201 

“ a stiletto is handier to carry in my bag than a 
crowbar! ” 

Lesears’ eyes flashed with a sudden and violent 
anger, but he passed out of the room without further 
comment. In the passage, I caught a glimpse of his 
visage as he entered his stateroom — it was distorted 
into the same diabolical expression that I had ob- 
served peering through the engine-room skylight. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


land! 

Within an hour the Idyl had steam up, ready to 
run in shore and effect a landing just as soon as 
there was sufficient light. Moreover, an examination 
of the machinery revealed the cause of the yacht’s 
extraordinary behavior on the previous day. I 
found that the port engine had been reversed by my 
stepping on the eccentric, as I climbed about on a 
tour of inspection prior to finding the steam-valve. 
This was another important discovery, as it put me 
in control of the reversing mechanism which, al- 
though somewhat cumbersome to handle without the 
lever, I nevertheless managed to operate successfully. 

Leaving Spike in charge of the furnaces, I went 
up on deck to take another look at the mysterious 
dark object to westward, which we had agreed was 
land. The yacht had swung around on her anchor 
chain, and the point of interest now lay on our port 
bow, a long narrow patch, discernible only after 
one’s eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness. 

202 


Land ! 


203 


I found the Colonel, in the company of his sister- 
in-law, upon the bridge, maintaining a sharp look- 
out with the hope of seeing a light or other evidence 
of human habitation. 

“ What's the news. Colonel? ” I inquired, joining 
them. “ Have you seen anything yet ? ” 

The Colonel turned to me with a look of disgust. 
“ Carlton,” he exclaimed, “ do you know what I 
think? I verily believe we’ve gone and dropped 
anchor off a common-or-garden coral reef. Look 
at it! Not a blessed sign of life; and I’ve fired off a 
couple of hundred dollars’ worth of rockets — had a 
regular Fourth of July, in fact, hadn’t we, Janet? ” 
“ And you’ve not seen any light, whatever? ” 

“ Not so much as a firefly! I tell you, Carlton, 
it’s a coral reef, and nothing else.” 

“ Oh, it’s just a shame!” exclaimed Miss Ash- 
leigh, clasping her big Angora cat fondly to her 
bosom, despite the animal’s obvious disinclination to 
remain on the bridge. “ I just hate to think of poor 
Archibald’s being so disappointed. He’s been frantic 
to go ashore and have a romp, ever since he scented 
land. Just look at him, Mr. Carlton. Gracious! I 
don’t know how I shall ever quiet him.” 

It appeared to me that Archibald’s struggles were 


204 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


caused more by a natural anxiety to be out of the 
dangerous proximity of so much water, than by an 
instinctive knowledge of the presence of land. But 
I prudently gave the animal the benefit of the doubt. 

“ Well,” I ventured, “ the cat is certainly anxious 
to be somewhere other than where he is. Perhaps, 
after all, we can trust to the animal’s instinct. But 
in that case, the dark object over there is ac- 
tually land, for a cat would scarcely make such a 
fuss over a coral reef.” 

“ Oh, the cat be hanged ! ” exclaimed the Colonel 
irritably. “ It’s clawing at Janet, simply because it 
thinks she brought it up here to pitch it overboard. 
If you are going to call that instinct ” 

Miss Ashleigh interposed, indignantly. 

“ Why, the idea ! ” she exclaimed. “ George, how 
can you be so cruel — so utterly heartless — as to think 
that Archibald would suspect me of anything so 
wicked ! I declare, I do not think it is safe for me to 
have him here, when you think such terrible things ! ” 
And, thereupon, the good lady eased her own mind, 
and that of Archibald, by going below. 

The Colonel trained his marine glass landward 
again with an audible sigh, and for several minutes 
stood contemplating the obscure object of interest 


Land! 


205 


in silence. Finally, with an air of conviction, he 
turned upon his heel. 

“ Carlton, my boy,” he exclaimed, “ let’s get out 
of this! We’ve been hanging about here long 
enough. Yonder’s nothing more than a coral reef — 
I’m willing to swear to it. And here we are potter- 
ing around and allowing those blackguards to give 
us the slip. You’ve got steam up, so let’s be off.” 

“ I think you are wrong, Colonel,” I ventured. 
“ From what I’ve heard of coral reefs, it would not 
be possible for us to find an anchorage out here, 
if that was one. It is over a mile away, remem- 
ber.” 

“ Well, what, in thunder, is it then? ” 

“ A small island, I suppose. Just such an island, 
probably, as we sighted last winter in this latitude. 
There is no reason why there should be people living 
on every bit of rock that sticks out of the ocean, 
hereabouts.” 

“ Maybe so, my boy, but you’re incorrect in one 
thing ” 

The Colonel did not finish his criticism. 

“What’s that?” he cried excitedly. “What, in 
thunder, is that ? ” 

I had seen the thing at the same instant — a huge 


206 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

gray mass it was, luminous in the surrounding dark- 
ness, and lying still in the water quite near to us. 
It seemed to have crept stealthily in between the 
yacht and the dark strip of land, which we had been 
looking at only a few minutes before. In the short 
interim, it had stolen softly up to us, and now lay 
there gray and spectre-like, as if in very corrobo- 
ration of Spike’s nocturnal warning. 

Fortunately, indeed, the boy was in the stoke- 
hole; although I confess to having, myself, ex- 
perienced a creepy sensation in the region of the 
spine — a tendency to give a yell and leap to the deck 
below. And then — yes, surely ! I caught a glimpse 
of the Colonel’s back — it was gray too ; and I burst 
into a fit of laughter, somewhat louder and more 
boisterous than is my wont. Nor was I alone in my 
mirth. The Colonel had discovered the cause of the 
phenomenon at the same instant. 

It was dawn — the swift advent of a tropical day, 
revealing to us the true nature of our surroundings ! 

“ * Where the sun comes up like thunder ! ’ ” I ex- 
claimed, grasping the Colonel’s proffered hand, and 
wringing it vigorously in my excitement. 

“You were right, my boy! You were right!” 
was all my companion could find time to say, as he 


Land! 


207 


gazed upon the wonderful panorama that was 
quickly being unveiled before us. 

Scarcely two hundred yards away from the yacht, 
lay an island — the very object which, in the dark- 
ness, had appeared to be over a mile distant! In- 
deed, we had had an exceedingly narrow escape 
from running ashore. Even as we remarked this, 
the color of the foliage and the physical detail of 
the land sprang into prominence with astonishing 
rapidity, until, in a few minutes, the whole island 
lay bathed in the glory of broad daylight. 

It was truly a marvelous transformation of what 
had previously been an appalling blanket of obscure 
and impenetrable mystery; and as we stood lost in 
wonder and reverence at the beauty of the scene, the 
profound silence was suddenly broken by a grand 
burst of melody. A song of thanksgiving to the 
Creator it was — a song of great gladness that the 
day had come, thrilled from a million throats in 
triumphant ecstasy! Instantly, the air was filled 
with birds of every description which seemed to 
spring into existence as if by magic, some circling 
the yacht with screams of defiance, others, of more 
sedate demeanor, chattering familiarly in the rigging 
as they plumed themselves, while still others were to 


208 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


be seen wading on the magnificent stretch of beach 
which lay at the foot of a high cliff, already actively 
engaged in fishing for their breakfast. 

Into a few minutes, had been crowded Nature’s 
most glorious, awe-inspiring, and supreme phenom- 
enon — the awakening of a new day ! 

“ ‘ Where the sun comes up like thunder! ’ ” ex- 
claimed the Colonel, repeating my last remark in a 
tone which sounded strangely distant and insig- 
nificant in the babel that prevailed. And then : 

“ Must go and tell the girls, Carlton ! ” he cried 
excitedly, slapping me upon the back, and leaping 
down the ladder with an agility which would have 
done credit to a gymnast. 

But the message had already been conveyed to 
those below, in the wonderful volume of song which 
literally filled the air. And before the Colonel had 
reached the companionway, every one was upon 
deck, marvelling at the exquisite beauty and gran- 
deur of the scene which greeted them. 

I looked anxiously at Sibyl’s face, but saw there 
nothing to indicate that she was at all conscious of 
what had occurred during the night, or, indeed, that 
she was in any way the worse for her experience. 
She joined in the jubilations with a verve which left 


Land ! 


209 


no room for doubt as to its genuineness, or of her 
delight at beholding land. Lesears’ manner, too, 
was hard to reconcile with past events. Both were 
exceptionally debonair; had the whole deplorable 
affair been a dream, there could not have been less 
evidence of it. 

Excitement was rife — the three ladies all talking 
simultaneously, (a feminine indulgence which it has 
ever delighted my heart to behold) while the Col- 
onel and Lesears stood with their arms entwined 
around each other’s necks, a picture of paternal and 
filial affection. Nor was I allowed to remain aloof, 
soberly contemplating the vivacious scene. The Col- 
onel turned and beckoned vigorously to me with his 
disengaged arm. 

“ Come down here, Carlton, you rascal ! ” he 
shouted. “ What do you mean by perching up there 
with a face as long as a fiddle! Come down, sir, at 
once, and tell us where you hid the key of the wine- 
chest ! ” 

I had visited the chest on the previous day to ob- 
tain some brandy for the Captain, and in the even- 
ing, when the Colonel had asked me for the key, I 
was unable to remember where I had placed it. But 
upon reaching the deck, it suddenly occurred to me 


210 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

that I had omitted to take it out of the lock, and I 
was about so to inform my host, when Sibyl ex- 
claimed triumphantly : 

“ Oh, I’ll show Mr. Carlton where he hid the key, 
Dad! You mustn’t think I was looking for it — I 
just couldn’t help seeing it! ” 

I entered no protest, whatever; but, after inquir- 
ing what was needed, submissively followed Sibyl 
down into the saloon where, sure enough, with con- 
siderable merriment at my expense, she pointed out 
the key in the lock. 

“ It certainly does look significant,” I admitted, 
joining in my fair companion’s mirth. “ When did 
you discover it ? ” 

“ I saw it there yesterday afternoon,” she replied 
enigmatically. “ And if you will promise not to 
breathe a word, I’ll tell you a secret ! ” 

“ I solemnly promise.” 

“ Well, I just couldn’t resist taking Captain Wat- 
terson a little whiskey, and when he heard that I had 
found the key in the chest, he told me to leave it 
there and say nothing about it, as it might come in 
handy if he was able to walk about a bit during the 
evening.” 

“ So it was the Captain whom I heard prowling 


Land ! 


211 


around after every one had retired! Apparently it 
came in handy during the night, as well.” 

I watched the girl’s face closely, but it was quite 
evident that my words bore no significance to her. I, 
of course, knew that she was unconscious when I 
arrived in the saloon, but whether she had merely 
fainted after clandestinely meeting Lesears for the 
purpose of flight, or had been under his hypnotic 
influence from the time she left her stateroom and 
consequently wholly unaware of her act, was what 
I wished, if possible, to ascertain. And her answer, 
spoken with the frankness of perfect innocence, re- 
moved every vestige of doubt that she was in any 
way implicated. 

“ How do you know that it was not I you 
heard prowling around ? ” she exclaimed, with a 
gay little laugh. “ I, too, am fond of a glass 
of wine. And, you know, stolen fruit is always 
sweetest.” 

“ True,” I replied, in the same spirit. “ And now 
I think of it, I believe it was very difficult to wake 
you up this morning.” 

Her lips pursed. 

“ Who told you that? ” she demanded indignantly. 
“ Why, that’s as bad as saying that I snore ! I will 


212 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


have you know, please, that I am a very light sleeper, 
and require no one to wake me ! ” 

“ But you did, this morning/’ I persisted, en- 
deavoring to make my statement appear nothing 
more than the mere banter we were indulging in. 

“ Yes, I will confess that mother had to wake me 
this morning, but consider what hour it was! — 
Besides,” she added demurely, “ I have warned you 
that I do not like discussing that subject, and I think 
it very rude of you to persist ! ” 

And, in truth, now that I was perfectly satisfied 
that Sibyl knew nothing of Lesears’ attempted vil- 
lainy, I began to realize into what an awkward posi- 
tion my anxiety to learn the truth had led me. 

“ It was rude, indeed ! ” I confessed, with genu- 
ine feeling. “ And I most humbly ask your pardon. 
Really, I don’t know what I could have been think- 
ing of, so to forget myself. . . 

“ Never mind,” she said quickly, her voice be- 
coming wonderfully soft. “ I will not scold, al- 
though you deserve it. You were very kind and 
good to me yesterday, and I can not so soon 
forget.” 

“ Ah ! ” I exclaimed sadly, recollecting the doubts 
of only a few minutes before, “ but I have more than 


Land ! 


213 


counteracted what I did yesterday, by that which 
I was guilty of to-day.” 

“ Tell me, what were you guilty of? If it is any- 
thing within my power to forgive, I promise you 
. . . I will” 

She was close to me, her face upturned, and a 
light in her eyes that I had never seen there be- 
fore. ... It was intensely quiet, the sound of 
merry voices mingling with the scream and chatter 
of birds, coming to our ears as mere echoes of the 
outside world, and only rendering the stillness about 
us the more profound. . . . She had spoken in the 
low tremulous tones of deep emotion ; and now with 
parted lips and quick breath she waited expectantly, 
eagerly, — the most beautiful creature I had ever 
seen! . . . We were both strangely excited. . . . 

“ No,” I replied tenderly, “ I cannot tell you, 
Sibyl — it is impossible! But I swear that I shall 
never be guilty of it again ! Here is my peace offer- 
ing,” I added, holding out Lesears’ stiletto. “ It 
is the tooth of a very dangerous animal, the name 
of which can be found legibly inscribed thereon. 
Keep it, and some day, perhaps, I shall tell you how 
and why I drew it.” 

I seized the hand that took the knife from me, and 


214 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

pressed it passionately to my lips. She was trem- 
bling violently now, and the touch of her soft, deli- 
cate fingers sent a thrill of ecstasy through me. I 
was intoxicated by an overwhelming sense of her 
nearness. . . . 

“ Don’t — please don’t,” she whispered, her voice 
choking with sobs. She was not weeping, but stood 
gazing at me like a frightened fawn, her eyes opened 
to their widest extent, her lips parted with intense 
wonder. 

“ Dearest Sibyl — ” I murmured softly, drawing 
her close to me. Her beautiful face was radiant. . . . 

“ Oh, Edgar ! Edgar ! ” she cried breathlessly 
as my burning lips touched her forehead. Then 
quickly freeing herself from my arms, she fled from 
the room. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


I PART FROM SIBYL. 

Although it was unanimously agreed that some 
one should go ashore without loss of time, and re- 
connoiter with a view of obtaining immediate shelter 
for the yacht, it was not until midday that the small 
life-boat, containing Lesears and myself, left the 
vessel’s side. The delay in getting away upon our 
important mission, was occasioned by our prudent 
hostess insisting upon the few rusty firearms aboard 
being thoroughly cleaned and tested, a job to which 
Spike was assigned. Likewise, as a precautionary 
measure, the salute gun was fired a dozen or more 
times, Mrs. Cavashaw explaining that it would 
frighten off any wild beasts that were lurking in the 
vicinity; for as yet we had seen no signs of human 
habitation, nor had we any knowledge of the island’s 
size or location. 

It had been the Colonel’s intention to accompany 
me ashore, leaving Lesears on the yacht with the 

215 


216 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

ladies, in case of emergency. But his wife would 
not listen to this plan; and her attitude found my 
hearty approval, albeit my objection to the Col- 
onel’s proposal, which I wisely withheld, was of a 
very different nature to that of my hostess. 

“ No, George,” she declared, when the Colonel 
had voiced his intention of climbing to the top of 
the cliff, to “ view the landscape o’er,” as he ex- 
pressed it. “ You’ll do no such thing! The idea of 
you talking about climbing such a cliff as that, with 
your rheumatism! Why, only a little while ago, 
you were complaining about going up stairs.” 

“ Now, mother, draw it mild ! ” replied the Col- 
onel coaxingly. “ That was six months ago, at least. 
And you omit to state that it was the stairs in the 
Statue of Liberty you wanted me to sprint up — a 
vastly different thing, my dear, to climbing an ordi- 
nary, common-or-garden cliff.” 

“ Indeed, it is a vastly different thing,” agreed 
his wife, “ as you would certainly find to your sor- 
row, George, before you got very far up.” 

But the Colonel’s pride was not so easily subdued. 

“ Why, I’m a crackerjack at climbing!” he de- 
clared boastfully. “ Don’t you remember that time 
I shinnied up the flagpole on Baxter’s lawn — eighty 


I Part From Sibyl 


217 


feet it was, easily — to say nothing of beating friend 
Carlton up the tree, by a full head and shoulders, 
when the bull was after us? ” 

“ Yes, George, and now you recall that climb up 
Baxter’s flagpole, you remind me also of the time 
I had for three days afterwards, rubbing you with 
liniment. Limbering you up, was what you termed 
it, but it was nothing more nor less than making it 
possible for you to walk. I shall never forget what 
a helpless cripple you were! Why, it was a full 
week before you got to the city again.” 

“ See here, mother, it isn’t fair to let Thomas, 
Richard, and Henry into our camp secrets,” pro- 
tested the thoroughly beaten Colonel. “ I might 
have been a bit stiff after it, but the hill over yonder 
is not a patch on that flagpole. Anyhow, if it’s be- 
cause you’re afraid of savages boarding the yacht 
while I’m away, I’ll stay and give you my protection, 
of course, — you’ve a right to demand it.” 

“Savages! ” gasped Sibyl, clasping her hands in 
fright at the very thought. “ Oh, Dad, you don’t 
really mean that there may be savages here ? ” 

“ And pray, why not?” calmly interposed Miss 
Ashleigh. “ It has been proved that the location of 
Crusoe’s island was in the West Indies, and not off 


218 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

the Pacific coast as popularly believed. Who can 
say that this is not the very island that Robinson 
Crusoe was cast upon, and that the cannibals are not 
still visiting it to feast upon their poor captives. ,, 

“ Oh, horrors, Aunt ! ” cried Sibyl. “ I don’t 
know how you can think such things ! ” 

“ But, really,” said Mrs. Cavashaw, seriously, 
“ I do think that it would be wise to take every pre- 
caution against such a thing, — not cannibals, of 
course, but desperadoes, who would be little better 
than savages.” 

“ By all means, let us be armed ! ” agreed the 
Colonel, whose martial spirit was immediately 
aroused. “ My dear, I’ve often had occasion to com- 
pliment you upon that head of yours, and this is by 
no means an exception. Here, Carlton, select a 
rifle and a brace of revolvers from this pile of scrap- 
iron, and make sure you know which end the 
bullet’s going to come out of, before you pull the 
trigger. Takes more figuring than you’d think, my 
boy, with such guns as these ! ” 

I did as requested, Mrs. Cavashaw watching me 
with genuine motherly concern written on her hand- 
some face. 

“ I just hate to have you go alone, Edgar,” she 


I Part From Sibyl 


219 


said at length. “ You might fall and hurt yourself, 
and there would be absolutely no way of us know- 
ing. Would you not like Val to go with you, 
dear ? ” 

“ Oh, no, thank you,” I replied, secretly amused 
at the idea of Lesears acting as my body-guard. “ It 
is no use two of us going, as I shall be in sight of 
the yacht practically all the time, and it’s sure to be 
an awfully hot climb.” 

“ That is all the more reason why Val should 
go with you,” declared my hostess decidedly. “ He 
has lived in the terrible heat of southern India most 
of his life, and you might be overcome and really 
require his assistance.” 

And before I could offer any further resistance, 
the good lady had hurried off to notify her guest 
of the plans she had made. 

Lesears sat with Sibyl in the bow, whither they 
had sauntered while I was choosing my firearms. 
It was the latter who, very much to my surprise, had 
proposed going forward, and I had noted, with 
something akin to apathy, the eagerness with which 
my rival had jumped at the invitation. It seemed 
incredible that Sibyl could still entertain a friendly 
disposition toward this acknowledged miscreant, 


220 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


and yet her manner upon this occasion was even 
more conciliatory than usual. Following so soon 
upon our mutual epanchement in the saloon, I felt 
it keenly. 

Lesears did what any other man would have felt 
compelled to do in the circumstances, and signified 
his willingness to accompany me ashore ; but many 
a man might have done it less gracefully. It was 
with characteristic urbanity that he accepted his fate, 
joining me upon the after-deck in what appeared to 
be the gayest of spirits. 

“ So I’m to go along to protect you against sav- 
ages and mosquitoes and the like, to say nothing of 
charming away the snakes, eh, o’man ? ” he ex- 
claimed boisterously. 

I felt that a savage’s company would have been 
infinitely preferable to his, but I took good care not 
to display any such sentiment, and met his witticism 
with a careless laugh. I noticed, however, that 
Sibyl’s face was very serious when she came to the 
after-deck, and that she remained constantly at my 
side during the final preparations. 

“ Better take that revolver along with you, 
Lesears,” I observed, noticing that he had picked up 
an antiquated muzzle-loader, and was inspecting it 


221 


I Part From Sibyl 

critically. “ It’s the only one left that’s fit to fire.” 

He threw the gun down with a curious grin, re- 
marking that he preferred his own, and immediately 
went below to arm himself from his private supply. 
This complicated matters seriously, as I felt that it 
was imperative that I should know just what weap- 
ons my treacherous companion had in his possession. 
I was satisfied that the journey itself was com- 
paratively safe, but in the company that had been 
chosen for me, I was just as certain that it would 
prove to be an undertaking fraught with peculiar 
and insidious peril. 

Nor was I the only one who held this view. The 
Colonel, having jumped into the boat, was engaged 
in rowing it around to the accommodation ladder 
where Mrs. Cavashaw and her sister waited to see 
us off, and Sibyl, now that we were alone, hastened 
to explain why she had hurried Lesears off to the 
bow. 

“ I was afraid that he would offer to accompany 
you in place of Dad,” she said timorously, “ but I 
did not think that mother would ask him to go. 
You surely realize how dangerous it will be to have 
him with you. Oh, it is terrible ! Why did you not 
refuse to take him ? ” 


222 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

“ Oh, I’ll take good care of him for you,” I re- 
plied with a laugh. And the next moment, when it 
was too late, I realized what a cad I had been to 
say it. 

Sibyl turned quietly away and walked to the after- 
rail, but not before I had caught the glisten of tears 
in her eyes. My aimless jest had been prompted by 
a ridiculous feeling of jealousy which, in view of 
her explanation that she had got Lesears out of the 
way solely on account of her concern for my safety, 
was brutally unjust. It was impossible to follow her 
without attracting attention to the circumstance, but 
I believe that I should have been guilty of this indis- 
cretion, had not the Colonel's voice, at that moment, 
summoned me. 

Lesears was already seated in the boat, with oars 
resting in the rowlocks; and a few minutes later, 
after having promised the Colonel and his wife to 
be extremely cautious, I joined him. 

My place was at the tiller and, as we passed astern 
of the yacht, I waved gayly to Sibyl with my dis- 
engaged hand, little suspecting the terrible circum- 
stances of our next meeting. My farewell salute, 
however, received no response. 

“ Wave one for me, o’man,” jocosely exclaimed 


I Part From Sibyl 


223 


my companion who, with both hands employed at 
the oars, was unable to enjoy the privilege. 

And as I turned and waved again, Sibyl’s hand- 
kerchief appeared for the first time. But she did 
not wave it; the handkerchief was raised and low- 
ered again with a quick impulsive movement. In- 
stinctively I felt that it was a warning, and turned 
around apprehensively. 

“ Thought she’d answer my salutation, even 
though it was by proxy,” laughed Lesears. 
“ Gad, but you’d be tickled no end if I was 
satisfied to make love to her through the same 
medium — what ? ” 

I felt the hot blood of anger mount to my face at 
this piece of impudence, and I had that upon my 
tongue which would surely have sealed the fate of 
one of us. But ere I could utter a word the boat 
gave a sharp lurch, and immediately the glassy water 
around us was swirled into countless eddies by the 
quick movement of some huge body beneath its sur- 
face. 

The next instant, a large triangular object ap- 
peared protruding out of the water a dozen yards 
away, and at the sight of it the meaning of Sibyl’s 
gesture became apparent to us both. There was no 


224 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

mistaking that familiar shape — it was the dorsal 
fin of a gigantic shark ! 

“ Good Lord ! ” cried Lesears, his face turning 
deadly pale despite its coat of tan, “ the bally thing’s 
coming at us again! He’ll upset us this time, or 
what I know about the man-eating devils isn’t worth 
a tinker’s dam ! ” 

And, sure enough, after describing a sharp curve, 
the protruding fin headed straight for us, cutting 
through the water at a terrifying speed. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


SOME CONFIDENCES ARE EXCHANGED. 

Instinctively we both whipped out our revol- 
vers, and fired at the fin of the approaching shark as 
fast as our weapons would operate. It was all the 
work of a moment, but despite our dire peril and the 
excitement incident to it, I did not fail to observe 
that Lesears held in his right hand a long bladed 
knife, evidently with the determination to fight to 
the last, when we were thrown into the water. 

I do not believe that a shot from our guns could 
have missed its mark, for in a very few seconds the 
projecting fin was literally torn to pieces, and the 
monster, in a paroxysm of rage and pain, reared its 
hideous body several feet out of the water, as it 
sped toward us, then with a mighty splash dived 
beneath the surface again. But before it disap- 
peared I had sent three bullets crashing through its 
head, while Lesears, with lightning movement and 
marvelous dexterity, hurled his knife unerringly at 
225 


226 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

the creature’s throat, where it sank from sight 
buried above the hilt. The boat heaved on the 
swell made by the monster’s final dive, then settled 
upon an even keel in a veritable sea of blood. 

“ Dooced close shave, o’man ! Ugly beggars, by 
Jove ! Don’t care to have ’em so near, not half ! ” 
With these few laconic remarks, my companion 
seated himself and prepared to reload his revolver. 

“ It is just inviting more trouble to reload here,” 
I objected. “ We had better make for shore double- 
quick, for there are others where that fellow came 
from, take my word for it ! ” 

“ Right-o! ” was the ready response; and placing 
the empty revolver on the seat beside him, he seized 
the oars and pulled hard for shore. 

Not until the boat grated upon the beach did I see 
the opportunity for which I was waiting. At the 
first shock Lesears instinctively turned his head to 
look ashore, and the instant he did so I leaned over 
and took possession of his revolver. I slipped it 
quietly into my pocket, and was calmly reloading 
my own when he turned around again. 

" Say, where’s my gun? ” he inquired, looking all 
about him and then under the seat for the missing 
weapon. 


Some Confidences are Exchanged 227 

I did not answer until he had finished his search, 
as I needed the few intervening moments to finish 
reloading my own revolver. 

“ Where’s my gun ? ” he repeated, eyeing me sus- 
piciously from under contracted brows. 

“ I’ve got it,” I replied quietly. “ Let’s get 
ashore.” 

“ Shore be d — d ! Give me my gun ! ” he de- 
manded fiercely. 

“ Come, come ! ” I said smilingly. “ Don’t give 
way to temper like that ! Your gun is in safe keep- 
ing, together with your stiletto and crowbar. ...” 

His response was a quick movement, which I ar- 
rested with a significant click of my revolver. 

“ Don’t be a fool, Lesears ! ” I warned. “ Step 
out on the beach, and I’ll follow you — we’ll talk it 
over there.” 

He sullenly obeyed, and stood waiting for me in a 
menacing attitude. But the sight of my ever ready 
weapon dissuaded him from making any rash move. 

“ What kind of game do you call this ? ” he de- 
manded in a loud voice, his face red with anger. 

“ This is not a game, Lesears,” I replied coldly, 
keeping my prisoner covered with the revolver, but 
taking care to hold the weapon close to my side in 


228 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


case the Colonel was watching us through his 
glasses. “ Suppose we go behind that rock,” indi- 
cating the place with a nod. “ I can furnish you 
with full particulars there without our being ob- 
served from the yacht.” 

“Yes, and have you murder me in cold 
blood, and then go back and tell them I was 
squinting down the barrel of my gun when it went 
off, eh?” 

“ Murder is more in your line than mine, Lesears, 
— come, step out ! ” I commanded sharply. 

“ Not by a hanged sight! ” was the angry retort. 
“ I take no orders from you ! ” 

“ Oh, very well,” I exclaimed indifferently. “ If 
you don’t mind the Colonel witnessing what I am 
about to do, I have no objections, to be sure.” 

Lesears’ lip curled in disdain. “ And pray what 
are you about to do? ” he inquired, with a fine dis- 
play of dignity. 

“ Search you for concealed weapons,” I replied 
firmly. 

“ Search me ! Why, man, you’re crazy ! What 
the devil do you take me for ? ” 

For a moment I eyed the fellow fixedly. “ It is 
not my purpose, Lesears,” I said, “ nor is it my 


Some Confidences are Exchanged 229 

habit to waste time in useless epithets, but since you 
have put the question so pointedly, I suppose it is 
only common courtesy for me to answer it.- — 
Socially, I take you for a cad of the lowest and most 
debased order; professionally, a blackleg; morally, 
a libertine; and physically, — I am inclined to be 
charitable — a dangerous monomaniac, with an im- 
pulse to murder/’ 

My denunciatory words produced a strange 
effect indeed, which, if not actually substantiat- 
ing the theory of Lesears’ insanity, at least proved 
that he possessed a most irrational and baffling 
sensibility. 

“ Is that all ! ” he vociferated, in a sudden burst 
of what appeared to be genuine and uncontrollable 
mirth, but with a madness dancing in his eyes that 
I well knew boded ill to me, whenever an oppor- 
tunity occurred. 

“ No, that is not all, Lesears ! ” I retorted hotly. 
“ I wish you to take warning that if there are any 
more cowardly attempts at murder, I shall have no 
further consideration for you — do you hear ? I shall 
shoot you down without compunction! It shall be 
either you or I.” 

“ Well, well ! It’s good of you to be so candid, 


230 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

o’man, both as regards expressing your opinion of 
me, and in intimating your desire to get me out of 
the way. I’m right glad that I induced you to re- 
lieve your mind on the subject. Now we shall both 
feel much easier about each other, for I believe I 
have already confessed my opinion of you. — Fact is, 
o’man, I never did take you for anything more 
formidable than a plain, right-down, good old- 
fashioned fool. Comforting that, eh, Carlie boy? 
Hang it all, it’s positively great to feel that there’s 
no secrets between us ! Bear up, o’chap, we shall be 
good friends yet ! ” 

“ Not unless you are more lively about getting 
behind that rock!” I retorted. “ For the sake of 
the Colonel and his wife, I have no desire for it to 
be known aboard the yacht what kind of blackguard 
you are, until it becomes necessary.” 

“ And that will be — ? ” drawled Lesears sarcas- 
tically. 

“ When I hand you over to the authorities,” I an- 
swered with promptness. 

Lesears eyed me closely for some moments, as 
though weighing in his mind the chances of getting 
the upper hand. Then, either thinking better of it 
or in pursuance of a plan he had formed, he turned 


Some Confidences are Exchanged 231 

upon his heel and walked straight to the rock I had 
indicated. 

Once out of range of the Colonel’s glass, I acted 
promptly. Commanding my prisoner to turn his 
face to the rock and hold up his hands, I went 
through his pockets, relieving him of another re- 
volver and a large clasp-knife. 

“ You’ve certainly got the touch that comes from 
long experience,” he observed sardonically, as I 
carefully examined every part of his clothing. “ I’ll 
bet you don’t leave me with a cent. — Nothing in that 
pocket but a few of Sibyl’s love letters,” he added 
complacently. 

When I was satisfied with my search, which was 
not until it was as thorough as I could make it, I 
gave the word to march, and together we approached 
the steep cliff. In order that I might keep a con- 
stant eye on my treacherous companion, I sent him 
up a few feet in advance, at the same time reiter- 
ating my warning that any false move on his part 
would be summarily dealt with. And thus we 
started the ascent. 

We had not climbed far, however, before Eesears 
showed signs of giving trouble. 

“ Have you ever tried putting salt on a bird’s tail. 


232 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

Carlie boy?” he called jeeringly over his shoulder. 
“ Just try it for a while — it will make exhilarating 
sport for you ! ” 

I made no reply, as I had already found a better 
use for my breath. But it was not long before the 
meaning of his taunt was brought home to me with 
considerable force, and with it came the realization 
that I had made a foolish mistake in sending Lesears 
first. The pace he set was terrific. Even to one ac- 
customed to tropical heat as was Lesears, it was 
cruel, — to me it was impossible, suicidal ! Yet I was 
obliged to keep close behind him, lest he should get 
away from me. And thus we toiled in the broiling 
sun, climbing the almost perpendicular rock with the 
speed of maniacs until, through sheer exhaustion, I 
was forced to call for a halt. 

But my request only resulted in stimulating 
the scrambling figure above me to increased 
effort. 

“ Halt ! ” I commanded sharply, thoroughly 
awake now to the nature of the trick that was being 
played upon me. 

Still Lesears kept on leaping up higher and higher, 
springing wildly from point to point with catlike 
agility, regardless of the dizzy height to which we 


Some Confidences are Exchanged 233 

had ascended and the inevitable consequence of a 
misstep. 

“ Stop where you are, or I’ll put a bullet in you ! ” 
I shouted, angrily. “ Stop — do you hear? ” 

Seeing that my words were unheeded, I drew my 
revolver and fired a shot over his head, as a warn- 
ing that I fully meant what I said. The bullet 
splintered the rock immediately above him, sending 
down a cloud of dust and stones, to escape which I 
was obliged to duck quickly behind a boulder. — The 
movement saved my life! 

With an oath, Lesears turned and hurled a large 
piece of rock with such unerring aim that the mis- 
sile missed my head by barely an inch. 

Keeping in cover of the projection, I peered 
around the side of it and took careful aim, this time 
directly at the wildly scrambling figure above me. 
The bullet sent his cork helmet spinning in the air, 
but up the sheer rock he still clambered, yelling and 
cursing like a madman, and before I could fire again 
he had disappeared over the top. A few seconds 
later, a heavy boulder came crashing down the face 
of the cliff, as a prompt reminder of the fate that 
was in store for me if I ventured out. 

I fully realized that the escape of my enemy had 


234 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


left me completely in his power, and sank down 
wearily upon the narrow ledge of rock to await re- 
sults. It was impossible to climb either up or down 
without exposing myself, and I was not so foolish 
as to think that Lesears would go off without avail- 
ing himself of the advantage he had gained. It is 
true that we were in full view of the yacht and that 
his actions would assuredly be observed, but he was 
not the one to let such a circumstance as that stand 
in his way. Enough had already occurred to call 
for considerable explanation. And if it was possible, 
by sheer cunning and falsehood, to escape the re- 
sponsibility of crime, Lesears was certainly the man 
who could do it — and do it even gracefully. More- 
over, there was good reason to believe that since 
learning of my determination to turn him over to 
the authorities, he had no intention of returning to 
the yacht. The island was large enough to furnish 
him with sustenance until he could signal a passing 
ship, which, in this part of the Atlantic, would be an 
almost daily occurrence. 

I had, therefore, no hope that Lesears would for- 
sake his point of vantage until he had wreaked ven- 
geance upon me. It was simply a matter of who 
could remain in his position the longer, with the 


Some Confidences are Exchanged 235 

odds all against me, for I had but a narrow ledge of 
rock upon which to lie fully exposed to the sun’s 
scorching heat. Lesears was too cunning not to be 
aware of this, and would doubtless be satisfied to 
wait until I was driven out, when a well-directed 
boulder would seal my fate. Nor was I mistaken, 
either as to my enemy’s tenacity or the method of 
his attacks. 

The terrific heat, radiating from the naked rock 
all about me, soon became unbearable and, to gain 
some shelter, I took off my coat and raised it upon 
my rifle in the form of a tent. I had no sooner done 
so than there came a deep rumbling like that of 
distant thunder, and the next instant the coat was 
whipped from the gun by a huge piece of rock, which 
hurtled down the steep incline and bounded into the 
ocean with a mighty splash. I was literally buried 
in the avalanche of dirt and gravel which followed 
in the path of the ponderous missile, but otherwise I 
remained unscathed behind my protecting ledge of 
rock, although the boulder had passed directly over 
me. 

That the appearance of my white coat had drawn 
the enemy’s fire, there could be no doubt, and I im- 
mediately contrived a ruse by which I hoped to get a 


236 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

shot at my foe that would turn the tables. Placing 
my cork helmet upon the rifle I raised it slowly 
above the boulder, at the same time sighting my re- 
volver for the top of the cliff, ready to pull the trig- 
ger the instant a head appeared. But Val Lesears 
was not the man to be caught in the fabled trap of 
the tiger, and I soon found that my helmet was more 
usefully employed in protecting my head from the 
intolerable rays of the sun. 

I was, therefore, obliged to content myself with 
simply keeping a constant watch for his reappear- 
ance. To do this, and at the same time remain pro- 
tected by the ledge of rock, it was necessary to lie 
prone, a position which, in conjunction with the ex- 
cessive heat and my fatigue, I found to be extremely 
conducive to slumber. Nor did I fail to recognize 
the peril that lurked in this insidious foe of the be- 
sieged. Hour by hour, I fought madly against its 
stealthy encroachment, until my brain fairly reeled 
like that of a drunkard. Not once did I glimpse my 
enemy. It occurred to me that Lesears might have 
mistaken the white coat carried down by the boulder 
for myself, but in my stupefied condition the thought 
led to no logical conclusion. In the same dazed 
manner I thought it highly probable that the Col- 


Some Confidences are Exchanged 237 

onel, having witnessed the whole affair through his 
glasses, would come ashore with succor ; completely 
omitting to take into consideration the fact that the 
yacht was now without a small boat of any descrip- 
tion. 

Thus I gradually drifted into unconsciousness, 
from which even the repeated firing of the yacht’s 
salute gun but partially aroused me, mingling as it 
did with the fantasy of my dreams. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


MAROONED. 

I was awakened by the noise of an explosion so 
terrific that it shook the cliff to its uttermost founda- 
tions. It seemed as though the very bowels of the 
earth must have burst to produce such a sound. 

I opened my eyes to find myself in complete dark- 
ness — a darkness §o intense, so absolutely impene- 
trable, as to appear almost tangible. A veritable del- 
uge was pouring from the heavens, hissing like es- 
caping steam as it beat against the rock, whilst down 
the face of the cliff there rushed swollen streams of 
water carrying with them quantities of mud and 
stones. I was directly in the path of one of these 
torrents which, leaping over the ledge against which 
I lay, formed a cascade above me, leaving me com- 
paratively dry and even sheltering me to some extent 
from the deluge of rain. 

For several moments after I awoke my mind was 
too bewildered to grasp the situation, and I lay 
238 


Marooned 


239 


motionless, utterly unable to account for my sur- 
roundings. Then gradually there came to me a 
recollection of the preceding events, and I realized 
that night had overtaken me as I lay in the deep 
stupor resulting from my exposure to the fierce 
rays of the sun during the afternoon. It was quite 
evident, therefore, that Lesears had gone off sup- 
posing that his well-directed boulder had safely dis- 
posed of me. This would account for my subsequent 
ruse being devoid of results, and I felt not a little 
foolish at having lain there in torture, when I might 
have ascended or descended the cliff in safety. 

A blinding flash of lightning, accompanied by a 
terrific crash of thunder like that which had awak- 
ened me, brought me back to the more immediate 
circumstances. The cascade, which had been pour- 
ing in a steady torrent over my head, suddenly 
ceased, and with the muffled roar of an earthquake 
a huge boulder bounded over the ledge and went 
crashing down to the sea below, shaking the solid 
rock with its prodigious weight as it swept by. 

It was as if the evil spirit of Lesears was pres- 
ent in the fury of the storm, for had he himself 
rolled the boulder over the edge of the cliff it could 
not have come nearer ending my days. But I was 


240 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

satisfied that a force far greater than his had been 
necessary to dislodge the massive piece of rock and 
start it on its downward career. And I at once 
realized the danger of attempting to climb the cliff 
until the storm had abated. 

The cascade, which had been momentarily im- 
peded by the passage of the boulder, now returned 
with renewed energy, forming a most effective 
screen between me and the outside world. Nor did 
this circumstance add to my peace of mind. The 
thought of the danger to which my friends aboard 
the yacht were exposed, with only a man and a boy 
to manage the vessel in the storm, made me chafe 
considerably at the obstruction which thus prevented 
me from ascertaining their fate. I was unable to 
sit upright owing to the narrowness of the ledge 
and, turning upon my side, I endeavored to part the 
curtain of muddy water with my hand. After many 
futile attempts I finally succeeded in obtaining a 
glimpse seaward, only to have my apprehensions 
greatly increased. Not a light was visible over the 
entire expanse of murky blackness ! 

It was impossible to tell whether the yacht had 
actually foundered or was merely obscured by the 
thick atmosphere, but, upon calm reflection, I was 


Marooned 


241 


inclined to believe the latter. And having received 
several bruises upon my arm from stones carried 
down by the water, I decided to abide in patience the 
cessation of the cascade, which I felt would surely 
be when the storm abated. 

But in this I was wrong. A weary wait of an 
hour or more brought no further evidence of the 
storm, and I determined to make an effort to creep 
out of my uncomfortable quarters. Keeping close 
to the overhanging rock and dragging myself along 
the ledge inch by inch, I finally managed to reach 
the open air. Here I stood gazing about me in 
blank amazement, feeling extremely foolish for 
having lain so long beneath the dirty waterfall. 

Not a cloud obscured the great dome of the starry 
heavens, while the beach, with its long line of huge 
white breakers, and the vast expanse of tumbled sea 
beyond, lay clearly revealed in the silvery light of a 
full moon. But nowhere was there a sign of the 
yacht ! 

This latter discovery, although disconcerting for 
the moment, did not occasion me any actual alarm, 
as a glance satisfied me that there was no wreckage 
either upon the beach or in the giant waves that 
broke and rolled seething up the strand. I was con- 


242 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


vinced, indeed, that the Colonel had managed to put 
out to sea at the first intimation of the storm, thus 
saving his vessel from being driven ashore. It is 
true that I also felt it to be quite possible that 
Lesears was aboard, having returned to the yacht 
with some ingenious story of my fate. But I did 
not fear its credence, nor that the Colonel would 
waver in his determination to put back to the island 
as soon as conditions permitted. At the worst, Le- 
sears might be trusted with the helm, as the Colonel 
would be obliged to take charge of the engines ; and 
it was safe to assume that the vessel, in that case, 
would be steered deliberately away from the island. 
But such a plan could easily be frustrated by my 
building a beacon-fire upon the top of the cliff. 
Every one on board the yacht would surely be on 
the lookout for the island. Sleep would not be 
thought of ; and with the glare of a fire signalling 
far across the dark waters, Lesears would be obliged 
to head towards it, even if he had the helm. 

Thus ruminating as I descended the cliff, I 
reached the place where, a few hours before, we had 
commenced our climb. Huge breakers rushed an- 
grily in shore, seething up the beach far beyond the 
point where I had left the boat. I do not think that 


Marooned 


243 


I had entertained the slightest hope of finding it, 
but the fact that the boat was not there filled me 
with a strange sense of loneliness — a loneliness, how- 
ever, which was destined to be of but short duration. 

I was in the act of retracing my steps with the 
object of building a fire without further loss of time, 
when I beheld something that put the thought fur- 
thest from my mind. Wedged tightly between two 
rocks at the foot of the cliff was the stern and keel 
of the small boat in which we had come to the island 
— all that was left of the Idyl's dory. The first two 
letters of the yachts name were still legible upon 
the stern-board, although the severe battering it had 
received from the waves had left very little paint 
remaining. 

Thus I became suddenly aware of the startling 
fact that Lesears was still upon the island. Either 
the storm had overtaken him before he could reach 
the boat and make good his escape, or he had not 
attempted to escape at all. In either case, he was 
now a dangerous character to come upon unawares 
in the darkness — certainly not the man whom I 
should wish to draw from his lurking place by light- 
ing a signal-fire. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


THE VISION OF THE NIGHT. 

My first act, after making the exceedingly un- 
welcome discovery that Lesears was marooned upon 
the island with me, was to ascertain whether my 
ammunition had suffered from the rain. To do this 
without the report of my firearms being heard by 
my enemy, I proceeded with the greatest caution, 
discharging the weapons within the deep recesses of 
a large cave. 

There was every reason to believe that Lesears 
had gone off with the idea that I was lying dead at 
the foot of the cliff — on the very spot, indeed, where 
I now stood. That being the case, I felt certain 
that a natural repugnance to the scene of his crime 
would keep him as far away from the place as 
possible. Accordingly, I decided to pass the night 
where I was, and after making a bed of dry seaweed 
within the cave, I threw myself wearily down and 
attempted to sleep. 

244 


The Vision of the Night 


245 


But all efforts in this direction were in vain. I 
suffered from a severe headache, which I attributed 
to the after effects of the sunstroke. I was also 
highly nervous and apprehensive, a condition which 
was entirely new to me and which, in all probability, 
likewise resulted from my exposure during the after- 
noon. But infinitely worse than either of these was 
a horrible sense of weakness which I felt gradually 
stealing over me, and which I feared was the insid- 
ious beginning of complete prostration. I fought 
against it desperately, and in fear of being rendered 
helpless within the cave where I should never be dis- 
covered by my friends, I rose to my feet and stag- 
gered to the water’s edge. 

To add to my physical distress, hunger gnawed 
at my vitals, and I began to experience the first in- 
describable tortures of thirst. Unable to remain in 
a state of inactivity any longer, I set out along the 
beach in search of some shellfish to appease my rav- 
enous appetite. I walked without any idea of dis- 
tance or direction, my mind set upon the one idea of 
getting something to eat. Thus I continued for over 
an hour without success. 

At last, after what seemed to be an interminable 
search, I came across some rocks that were thickly 


246 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

covered with moss and seaweed, and here I found, 
clinging to the growth, some large shellfish resem- 
bling mussels. I did not pause to consider whether 
they were edible or not, but detached them from 
their mossy bed and devoured them as fast as I could 
break the shells. It is fortunate, indeed, that they 
were not poisonous, for I must have eaten fully a 
dozen before I was obliged to desist owing to their 
salty flavor aggravating my thirst. Their nutri- 
tiousness, however, was undeniable. Already I felt 
much stronger; my faculties returned to their nor- 
mal state, and with them came a sense of the risk I 
had run in thus wandering blindly about. 

I glanced about me, only to discover that I had no 
idea from which direction I had come. I tried to re- 
member upon which hand the water had been as I 
walked, but the result was even worse confusion, 
as I could distinctly recall having had the sea first 
upon one hand and then upon the other during my 
ramble. 

Walking to the water’s edge, I looked up and 
down the beach, but nowhere was there a sign of the 
cliff I had left. Moreover, as I had kept to the 
rocks during my quest for food, no tracks remained 
as a guide by which to return. I realized that the 


247 


The Vision of the Night 

only hope of quenching my thirst, which was now 
rapidly becoming unendurable, lay in finding some 
rain-water lodged in the rocks, high enough up the 
cliff’s side to be out of reach of the sea. But even 
this hope could not long remain, for within an hour’s 
time the sun would have risen and the scanty pools 
of rain-water would soon be evaporated. 

In the agony of haste and uncertainty, I could 
have wept as I stood completely at a loss to know 
which way to proceed. And then, as I franticly 
strained my eyes first in one direction and then in the 
other, the cliff seemed suddenly to appear dimly dis- 
cernible in the distance, its moonlit sides standing 
calm and gray like a cloud of stationary smoke de- 
lineated spectre-like against the starry sky. I could 
have shouted for joy, but with an effort I restrained 
myself, and set out with all haste toward my goal. 

And yet, as I proceeded, I was impressed more 
and more by the strange appearance of the cliff in 
the bright moonlight. It seemed to hang in the still 
air, thin and ethereal — a mere ghost of the giant 
upon whose sides I had so lately experienced the 
deadliness of human hatred, the terror of heat, and 
the fury of storm! 


248 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

“ Strange, at this still enchanted hour, 

How things in daylight, hard and rough, 

Iron and stone and cruel power 
Turn to such airy, starlit stuff ! 

Yon mountain, vast as Behemoth, 

Seems but a veil of silvery breath ; 

And soundless as a flittering moth, 

And gentle as the face of death. 

And strange to think, yon silent star, 

So soft and safe amid the spheres — 

Could we but see and hear so far — 

Is made of thunder, too, and tears.” 

Hastening onward, I drew nearer the object that 
had appeared in the distance to be my landmark. 
And at each step the phantom cliff grew more tenu- 
ous and light, changing into fantastic shapes until it 
appeared as a cone suspended in the sky, with but 
a slim point resting upon the earth. A dark shadow 
would occasionally move grotesquely across its gray, 
translucent sides; a spark swirled quickly upward 

from its base, flickered brightly, and was gone 

The next instant I had dropped in my tracks and 
lay prone upon the sand, staring at the object I had 
mistaken for the cliff with new feelings of mingled 
apprehension and hope. At last I had comprehended 
the cause of the phenomenon. In reality, the phan- 
tom cliff was an immense pall of blue smoke, hang- 
ing in the still air over a large camp-fire that was 


The Vision of the Night 249 


built in the hollow of some sand-hills, not two hun- 
dred yards from where I lay! 

Instead of heading for the cliff I had evidently 
taken the very opposite direction, misguided by what 
proved to be nothing less than the smoke of my 
enemy’s camp-fire. I was convinced that when I 
ascended the intervening mound of sand, I should 
find Lesears camping in the depression. And after 
lying low for some minutes in order to make sure 
that I was not observed, I walked boldly forward, 
bent upon recapturing my prisoner by taking him 
unawares and without the use of firearms. 

But I had not covered more than half the distance, 
before I was brought to a sudden halt by what was, 
unmistakably, the sound of many voices raised in 
boisterous laughter. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


OLD FRIENDS MEET. 

Crouching low, I proceeded more cautiously. I 
realized that it was possibly a camp of perfectly 
friendly natives that I had come upon, but there was 
also a chance of it being otherwise. The yacht had 
been lying off the island for the greater part of the 
day, and had fired its salute gun several times, both 
morning and afternoon. It was, therefore, hardly 
conceivable that friendly natives, or hunters, would 
not have revealed their presence. On the other 
hand, I had no intention of retreating without first 
taking a glimpse at the campers from the top of the 
mound. I was suffering intensely from thirst, and 
the mere possibility of finding relief and hospitality 
urged me forward. 

Creeping upon hands and knees, I slowly ascended 
the sand-hill and peered cautiously over the brow. 
My first impulse was to utter an exclamation of as- 
250 


Old Friends Meet 


251 


tonishment at what I saw, but, luckily, I managed 
to smother it, and lay taking in the strangeness of it 
all with both eyes and ears. 

Seated in a semicircle about a large fire, and beat- 
ing time to their uproarious song with bottles and 
glasses, or whatever other article came handy, was 
the mutinous crew of the Idyl! While balancing 
themselves upon an overturned water-cask, with 
their arms entwined about each other’s necks, as 
much for mutual support as in acknowledgment of 
good comradeship, were the mate and my missing 
companion, Lesears! Had the earth opened and 
ejected this fine body of worthless seamen at my 
feet, I could not have been more surprised. 

Evidently the song had been well rehearsed by 
the company, for although the harmony might have 
found criticism in more philharmonic circles, the 
parts (there were two parts to the song) were taken 
in excellent form. It was this latter feature, rather 
than the somewhat uncertain melody, that made the 
greatest impression upon me; nor have I forgotten 
the words. 

The verse was sung in solo by Lesears, the last 
line being repeated by the crew in chorus with really 
wonderful expression, and then again reiterated by 


252 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


Lesears in a tone of certainty, which was nothing 

if not convincing — thus: 

Lesears. “ I’ll sing you a song of an island fair, 

Where the rivers with Beer abound, 

Where good Gin Rickeys fill the air, 

And High Balls are rolling on the ground.” 

Crew. “ What ! High Balls rolling on the ground ?” 

Lesears. “ Sure / High Balls rolling on the ground ! ” 

The entertainment was by no means limited to the 
rendition of this undeniably expressive, if not classi- 
cal, cavatina; the Colonel’s worthy guest punctu- 
ating the lyrical outbursts with anecdotes skillfully 
chosen as best befitting the social status of his audi- 
ence. Verily, Lesears’ keen wit was never seen to 
greater advantage ! 

Thus story and song followed each other in 
drunken monotony, while I turned my attention to 
the camp equipment in hope of discovering a water 
flask lying near enough to the edge of the de- 
pression for me to secure it. It was evident, by the 
position in which the blankets lay upon the ground, 
that the men had been asleep when Lesears de- 
scended upon their camp. That he had found a 
hearty welcome, despite the early hour, was, at the 
present moment, being very effectually demon- 
strated. 


Old Friends Meet 


253 


Clothing, firearms, cooking utensils, and various 
kinds of provisions lay scattered about in the great- 
est disorder. And finally my keen eyes, made sharp 
by suffering, detected a bottle of vichy which had, 
in all probability, been brought from the yacht for 
the mate’s private use. It lay amongst a pile of arti- 
cles at the far side of the depression, but at a suffi- 
cient distance from the fire to make it possible for 
me to creep down unobserved and take possession 
of it and sundry other provisions, if I watched my 
opportunity. 

I had risen from my position of observation, and 
was cautiously circling the camp preparatory to 
making the contemplated raid, when my attention 
was drawn to something that caused me to turn and 
flee back over the sand I had so lately trodden, as 
anxious to return as I had been eager to come. In 
the east was the first gray light of dawn, and I 
realized that in a few minutes it would be sufficiently 
light to make retreat over the long stretch of level 
sand impossible. 

Even as I ran, it grew light enough for me to dis- 
cern the cliff in the distance, ahead of me. And be- 
fore I had reached the mussel-bed, a rifle-bullet sang 
its warning overhead that those behind had seen 


254 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


me. Several other bullets followed in quick suc- 
cession, but all were fired by men who were too 
drunk to see the sights upon their guns, and went 
wide of their mark. 

One shot, however, which was fired after the 
others had ceased, flattened itself against a rock un- 
comfortably near to me, the fragments of stone 
actually flying into my face. Turning, I observed 
Lesears, armed with the mate’s Winchester, in full 
pursuit and evidently determined to keep up a run- 
ning fire until he brought me down. His compan- 
ions were all too drunk to follow at more than a 
snail’s pace, some of them, indeed, having already 
fallen by the way, and the rest, including the mate, 
showing a decided inclination to founder at any mo- 
ment. 

Lesears, who was not so drunk that he could not 
run as fast and straight as a deer, was still several 
hundred yards distant when I turned and faced him. 
Dropping to my knee and unslinging my rifle simul- 
taneously, I brought the piece up to my shoulder and 
lined the sights upon my advancing foe. 

I had always prided myself upon my marksman- 
ship, and well knew that, with the steady rest 
afforded by my knee, I could send a bullet through 


Old Friends Meet 


255 


the man’s heart with a degree of certainty that would 
make the report of my rifle his death-knell. And 
yet, with my finger upon the trigger, I hesitated. 
It is true that by killing my pursuer I would only 
be acting in defense of my own life, which he evi- 
dently had the avowed intention of taking. But I 
realized that Lesears would not have exposed him- 
self thus recklessly had he not been drinking heavily, 
and to slay a drunkard savored too much of cold- 
blooded homicide to suit me. 

As he raised his rifle for another shot, I pulled 
the trigger of mine, aiming at the ground a few feet 
in front of my adversary. Instantly he was smoth- 
ered in a cloud of flying sand, and the next moment 
I saw him drop his gun and clap his hands to his 
eyes, fairly stamping with rage and pain. 

The mate was the only man in the entire crew who 
was physically capable of wobbling to the blinded 
man’s side, his subordinates by this time forming a 
line of inanimate bundles en route. I did not feel 
disposed to await the outcome of the mate’s good 
offices, but, by frequent glances over my shoulder, 
I observed that the gallant seaman was doing his 
best to lead his charge back to camp — truly a case of 
the blind leading the blind ! 


256 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

Thus I was left to continue my way back to the 
cliff unmolested and at a more comfortable gait, a 
fortunate circumstance, indeed, for I arrived there 
in a state of utter exhaustion. Even so, the agony 
of my thirst would not permit me to rest until I had 
dragged my aching limbs to the very top of the cliff 
in a frantic search for water. Here I found a 
muddy pool which the rain of the previous night 
had mercifully left, and which, in another hour, 
would assuredly have been dried up by the sun. 
Throwing myself down on the rock, I drank the 
brackish liquid to the dregs, and almost immediately 
fell into a profound stupor, from which even the 
pest of insects failed to arouse me. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


THE YACHT RETURNS. 

I awoke suddenly and with a premonition of evil. 
To my great dismay, I found that the sun was al- 
ready low in the heavens. Sheltered by a large 
boulder, I had slept the greater part of the day, and 
now it was late in the afternoon. 

The first question to enter my mind, and one that 
left me with an uncomfortable sense of guilt and 
apprehension, was concerning the yacht and my 
friends aboard it. Had they returned during the 
day, in search of Lesears and me? If they had, 
they had done so at their peril ; the presence of the 
mutinous crew upon the island would jeopardize the 
lives of the entire party, nor would they have the 
slightest warning of their danger. 

Springing to my feet, I anxiously scanned the 
horizon upon all sides of the island, but failed to 
see any trace of the yacht. And yet I was vaguely 
conscious of having been aroused from my stupor 
257 


258 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


by the heavy detonations of a gun, although I could 
not be certain whether it was an actual occurrence 
or merely the product of my dreams. I was con- 
vinced that the Coloners intention had been to re- 
turn at the earliest possible moment, and the fear 
grew upon me, that he had done so only to fall into 
the hands of his bandit crew, who had then headed 
the yacht for the mainland. 

At the south side of the island, however, not 
more than a mile across the intervening stretch of 
thick underbrush, there appeared to be high cliffs 
similar to the one upon which I stood. It was pos- 
sible that the yacht had found shelter upon that side 
of the island, and was hidden by the elevation of 
ground. Moreover, as I stood thus scrutinizing the 
coast-line, I made a discovery which, at once, reas- 
sured me with regard to the safety of the Colonel 
and his party, even if they had returned. Lying in 
a creek, some little distance beyond the camp I had 
visited, was the yacht's naphtha launch, in which 
the crew had deserted. This was all the evidence I 
needed to convince me that my friends were still in 
possession of the yacht, as the naphtha launch 
afforded the only means by which the mutineers 
could board the vessel. 


The Yacht Returns 


259 


All things considered, I decided that it would be 
foolish for me to attempt to explore the far side of 
the island until darkness came. There was nothing 
to justify any rash haste, and it was certain that my 
foes would be on the lookout for my descent from 
the cliff in search of food. Indeed, it was probably 
only the knowledge that sooner or later I must come 
down, that had restrained them from risking an at- 
tack upon my stronghold. And, in truth, now that 
I found time upon my hands, I became painfully 
conscious of the pangs of hunger and thirst. 

From the position of the sun I estimated that it 
would not set for an hour, and I had started in 
search of a chance pool of rain-water in some shaded 
crevice of the rock, when suddenly there came to my 
ears the distant crack of a rifle. Leaping to the top- 
most rock, I stood shading my eyes from the setting 
sun and gazing around me in a fever of excitement, 
until, at length, with an exclamation of alarm, I dis- 
covered the cause of the firing. Upon the beach, 
some distance beyond the mutineers’ camp, were two 
figures clad in white, unrecognizable in the distance, 
it is true, but plainly those of a man and a woman. 
Nor could there be any doubt that it was the Colonel 
and one of the ladies of the party — probably Sibyl. 


260 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

It was evident, therefore, that the yacht had re- 
turned and found anchorage at the south end of the 
island but a short while before, and that its salute 
gun had awakened me from the deep stupor in which 
I had lain for the greater part of the day. Equally 
evident was it that the Colonel knew nothing of 
the presence of his mutinous crew upon the island. 
How the two had effected a landing without a boat, 
I could not conceive, but the reason they had come 
ashore was obvious by their actions. At regular in- 
tervals the Colonel would discharge his rifle, paus- 
ing for some moments as if to listen for a reply, and 
then proceeding along the beach, to repeat the per- 
formance later. Undoubtedly my friends had be- 
come alarmed when there was no response to their 
salute gun, and fearing that Lesears and I might 
have met with an accident, had come ashore with 
the intention of making a systematic search of the 
island. 

i 

Their position was perilous in the extreme, for if 
they advanced another quarter of a mile along the 
beach, they would walk right into the mutineers’ 
camp. Nor was it possible for me to reach them 
with timely warning, as the camp lay between the on- 
coming couple and myself ; while the practical cer- 


The Yacht Returns 


261 


tainty that they would mistake any signal I might 
make and hasten onward, prevented me from even 
revealing myself. Moreover, there could be no 
doubt that the fugitive crew were already in ambush 
awaiting their arrival, for not one of them was 
visible, although the firing was now within a few 
hundred yards of their retreat. For me to attempt 
to reach the Colonel and his companion in time to 
aid them in the fight which was inevitable, would be 
madness. Long before I could descend the cliff the 
mutineers would be upon them. 

Filled with despair at my inability either to warn 
my friends of their peril, or to render them aid in 
the fearfully short struggle that must ensue, driven 
to a frenzy by the thought of the hideous fate that 
awaited Sibyl and the other two ladies at the hands 
of these desperadoes, the horrible realization forced 
itself upon me that there was no alternative but to 
remain where I was, and risk all in long range shots 
at the crew as soon as they showed themselves. My 
rifle was a good one, having a magazine of five 
cartridges and a long distance rear-sight. I knew 
perfectly well that it would kill at a mile, whereas 
the mutineer camp was but little over a quarter of 
a mile from the cliff upon which I stood. There 


262 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


was just a mere chance, therefore, of my dropping 
one or two of them, and perhaps putting the rest of 
the cowardly wretches to flight, before they could 
seize their victims. This, it now became perfectly 
evident, was to be accomplished without the use of 
firearms in order to avoid the possibility of killing 
Sibyl, for, although the couple were already well 
within range of revolvers, not a shot had been 
fired. 

All depended upon my aim when the mutineers re- 
vealed themselves. Every shot from my rifle must 
drop a man — marksmanship which, even under the 
most ideal conditions, would be truly remarkable. 
But the conditions were very far from being ideal. 
The woman whom I loved, nay, worshipped, was in 
frightful peril — peril, comparable to which even the 
Coloners fate and my own were insignificant ; I was 
weak from exposure, from lack of food and water; 
and in the resultant agony of body and soul my 
hands trembled as with palsy. 

I realized the hopelessness of it all, and ground my 
teeth in impotent rage and despair, cursing my fool- 
ish scruples for not having shot Lesears down like 
the dog that he was, when, in drunken fury, he had 
pursued me along that very beach. And now, in a 


The Yacht Returns 


263 


few minutes, the doom of Sibyl and the Colonel 
would be sealed, while I, fool that I was, must 
needs stand helplessly by and witness the das- 
tardly crime. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


SIBYL FALLS INTO THE ENEMY’S HANDS. 

I know not how many seconds of those fata! 
minutes I had counted, each adding to the torture 
of my anguish and self-reproach, when, seized by a 
heaven-sent idea, I suddenly raised my rifle and, 
aiming directly over the heads of my oncoming 
friends, fired! 

The reason for my action was immediately appar- 
ent in the effect it had upon the Colonel and his com- 
panion. No words could have conveyed a more in- 
stant and significant message, than did the crack of 
a rifle followed by the warning note of a bullet as 
it whistled uncomfortably close to their heads. 
With lightning movement the Colonel whipped out 
a revolver and, handing it to the terrified girl, seized 
her arm and almost dragged her into cover of the 
bushes. 

The result of this move on the Colonel’s part was 
instantaneous, and dispelled all doubts as to the crew 
being in ambush or regarding their nefarious in- 
264 


Sibyl Falls into the Enemy’s Hands 265 

tentions. Down from their hiding-place in the sand- 
hills they ran, each man carrying a weapon of some 
kind, and all obviously bent on preventing the es- 
cape of their victims. 

They had a hundred yards to cover before they 
would reach the place where the Colonel had taken 
to the underbrush, and I waited until every man of 
them was in sight, before again raising my rifle. 
Not one of them turned to look toward the cliff from 
which I had fired the warning shot, and I soon real- 
ized that, surrounded as they had been by the sand- 
hills, the report of my rifle had not reached them. 

With characteristic cunning Lesears brought up 
the rear, evidently not wishing to be seen by either 
the Colonel or Sibyl until they were actually cap- 
tured. This stratagem was peculiarly worthy of my 
rival, as, in the event of his victims escaping, he 
would have but to change his role and fire a few 
shots at his comrades, to appear before the Colonel 
and Sibyl with all the eclat of a hero. It was at his 
broad back that I took deliberate aim, and fired. 

I had no scruples now of ridding the world of this 
professional blackleg and would-be murderer. It 
was he, I felt morally certain, that had instigated 
this attack upon his host and the girl into whose life 


266 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

he had forced himself with such pitiful results; it 
was he who, if they were captured, would claim 
Sibyl as his prize, and leave the fate of the Colonel 
in the hands of a gang of drink-besodden ruffians; 
and I was determined that, this time, he should not 
escape to carry out his designs of outrage and 
murder. 

But just as were the deserts I had apportioned to 
my rival, fate, in the form of physical weakness, in- 
tervened. My aim was totally destroyed by the 
hardships I had lately undergone, and the bullet, 
leaving the muzzle of my unsteady gun, flew wide 
of its mark, striking the sand immediately in front 
of the line of men and sending them helter-skelter to 
cover. 

Only Lesears remained aggressively in the open, 
a determination to wreak vengeance apparently rob- 
bing him of all sense of danger. Turning, with his 
rifle to his shoulder, he caught sight of the smoke of 
my shot hovering about the rock behind which I had 
taken shelter, and ere I could pull the trigger a sec- 
ond time, he had fired. 

Immediately, I received a demonstration of my 
enemy's marksmanship when he was sober. A sharp 
blow from the butt of my rifle sent me sprawling 


Sibyl Falls into the Enemy’s Hands 267 


upon my back, and I scrambled stupidly to my knees 
to find that his bullet had struck my weapon, bending 
the barrel almost to right angles. 

I still possessed two revolvers — the one I had 
taken from Lesears and my own — and without wait- 
ing to take another look at my foe, I started down 
the cliff in eager and reckless haste. Realizing that 
the Colonel would try to make his way through the 
undergrowth to the south shore, I made the descent 
down the gradual slope on the land side, and soon 
found myself in the thick bushes at the cliff’s base. 
Therefrom I took a diagonal course, with the hope 
of intersecting that of my friends and joining my 
fate with theirs. 

Revolver in hand I pushed forward, beating down 
the entanglement of vines and scrambling over fallen 
tree-trunks in a perfect frenzy of haste. Ever and 
anon I would listen for some indication of the 
whereabouts of either friends or foes, but not a 
sound penetrated the dense undergrowth which con- 
fronted me on every hand. 

I must have continued thus struggling in the 
humid heat and noisome air of the jungle for a quar- 
ter of an hour, before, disheartened by the certain 
knowledge that I had mistaken the direction taken 


268 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


by my friends, bruised, and almost crazed by thirst, 
I stumbled and fell heavily to the ground, where I 
lay with barely strength enough to rise. In this 
plight I must soon have lapsed into unconsciousness, 
had not the God-given music of trickling water 
reached my ears as I lay prostrate. In an instant I 
was up again, plunging through the jungle with the 
strength of a desperation verging on madness, and 
soon I was bending over a clear pool of water in a 
basin of moss-covered rock, gulping down mouth- 
fuls of the blessed fluid, and feeling every instant 
that I was becoming imbued with new life. 

Thus invigorated, the fever of my quest returned 
and I pressed on, first in one direction and then in 
another, as my progress was stopped by insurmount- 
able obstructions. I was hopelessly lost, and realized 
that my only chance of escaping from this maze of 
tropical growth was to keep going, no matter in 
what direction. Already the gloom of night was 
settling down upon the jungle, and I well knew that 
with darkness would come final despair. 

Suddenly through the heavy, stagnant air there 
came the shrill scream of a woman, made faint by 
distance, but unmistakably Sibyl's voice. A number 
of revolver shots accompanied it. Then another 


Sibyl Falls into the Enemy’s Hands 269 

scream, more piercing than the last, resounded 
through the jungle, and another shot, supplemented 
this time by the violent curses and cries of a man 
who had received his death-wound — then all was 
still. 

Grinding my teeth in a paroxysm of rage and 
anguish at my inability to render the unfortunate 
girl any assistance, I plunged wildly forward, tear- 
ing my way through the entanglement of under- 
growth in the direction of the firing, which had 
ceased as suddenly as it had commenced. From the 
sound of the voices I judged that they must have 
been a couple of hundred yards from me, at least. 
But in this I was wrong, having failed to allow for 
the deadening effect upon sound of the dense jungle; 
and I had not gone far before I came suddenly upon 
the scene of the attack. 

Upon every hand there was evidence of the fierce 
nature of the struggle that had taken place. The 
soft earth was trodden down by the footprints of at 
least a dozen men, while, in one place, the broken 
bushes had been so recently sprinkled with blood, 
that it still dripped from the branches — and yet, not 
a soul was in sight ! 

There was one soul which lingered behind, how- 


270 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


ever, although I was unaware of it at the time, and 
only made the discovery a few moments before it 
left the fatal scene forever. It lay in my path as I 
started off in hot pursuit of Sibyl's captors, and was 
gruesome evidence, indeed, that I had chosen the 
right direction. In the rapidly encroaching dark- 
ness I stumbled over something soft, which lay hud- 
dled up in a heap upon the swampy ground. 

“ Is that der Colonel ? " a voice groaned feebly. 
“ No, it’s Carlton," I answered, returning, and 
bending over the man, whom I at once recognized 
as the sailor called Bill. “ Are you badly hurt ? " 

“ Just about ter founder, guv’nor," was the la- 
conic reply. And then, eagerly : “ Say, yer know 
Dave, wot keeps a gin-mill on der Bowery, just 

below der Bridge, like as ” 

“ Tell me where you’re hurt, first," I interrupted. 
“ Oh, I’m hurt bad — it’s no use, matie ! An’ I 
ain’t a goin’ ter panhandle wid me last card. That 
kid give it me for fair, all right! I wus just 
sneaking up ter grab her from behind like, when, 
gee! she turns an’ lets ’em go so quick I didn’t 
see her move a hand — Say, yer know Dave’s 
joint ? " 

“ But what became of her — where is she now? 


Sibyl Falls into the Enemy’s Hands 271 

And where’s the Colonel ? ” I persisted, excitedly. 

“ As for der old man, I don’t know wot became 
of him — unless der mate fixed him. Der guy wot 
wears a glass eye got der goil, acourse. They’re 
headed for der beach, an’ ” 

Here the wretched fellow was seized with a 
violent fit of coughing, which I thought would surely 
be his last. 

“ Say — mate,” he gasped feebly, “ raise me up a 
bit — will yer ? ” And when I had complied with his 
request, he added : “Yer have a right ter stay wid 
a man wot’s — wot’s dying. ... Yer ain’t got no 
need ter hurry. . . . They’s agoin’ ter wait on — on 
der beach till it’s dark, anyhow, an’ then run out to 
der yacht wid der launch. . . .” 

“ Well, but how far is the beach away from 
here ? ” 

“ Near enough for yer health, guv’nor, I’ll tell 
yer those ! They’ll get wind of yer, if yer goes much 
nearer. Yer can see der fire through them bushes, 
if yer ’ll turn around. . . . Say — ” he added, whim- 
sically, “ yer’ll be keeping me company afore long, 
matie, that’s a sure thing! ” 

I looked in the direction the man had indicated, 
and, in the gathering gloom, saw the glow of a 


272 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


camp-fire filtering through the undergrowth in lurid 
streaks. 

“ Are you sure that they will wait until it’s 
dark ? ” I asked, dubiously. 

“ Sure, matie ! Sam’s got ter bring der — der 
launch down from der creek, anyhow.” 

“ Well, what is it you want to tell me about 
Dave? ” I asked, more compassionately. 

“ Ter blazes wid Dave, an’ all his gang! I — I 
ain’t wanting ter ” 

Another fit of coughing seized him. 

“ Say — ” he resumed weakly, “ Dave’s joint is 
just below der Bridge — any cop’ll tell yer where — 
go straight in an’ say — say as Bill ” 

He stopped abruptly, and with a sudden convulsive 
movement leaped to his feet. Suspecting treachery, 
I sprang back, but as quickly rushed to his side 
again as I noted his glassy eyes and swaying body. 

“ Hell ! I — I want water ! ” he gasped. “ Give — * 
me — water — wa ” 

He plunged headlong forward, but I caught his 
limp body ere it struck the ground and laid it gently 
down, covering the face with my handkerchief. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


I ATTEMPT A RESCUE — AND FAIL! 

I turned from the scene with a feeling akin to 
apathy, and guided by the light of the camp-fire 
cautiously made my way to the edge of the jungle. 
Here, under cover of the darkness, I lay anxiously 
watching the movements of the men who held Sibyl 
captive, racking my brains in a frantic endeavor to 
devise some means of rescuing her before it was too 
late. 

At first, I could see no sign of the girl and thought 
that, after all, she might have eluded her pursuers, 
or made good her escape subsequently. Lesears’ tall 
figure was plainly in evidence, however, as he strode 
restlessly up and down in the firelight. And it was 
by observing his movements that I finally discerned 
his wretched captive, lying upon the sand with her 
face buried in her hands, the picture of utter despair. 

The sight made me clutch my revolver and bite 
my lips in a frenzy of impatience, nor was the agony 
of my emotions in any degree lessened by the actions 
273 


274 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


of her unprincipled lover. Dropping upon his knees 
by the weeping girl’s side, he made frequent attempts 
to caress her and kiss the hidden face, only to spring 
to his feet in a fury at her rejection of him. 

On one occasion, the mate, who seemed to find 
great amusement in watching the couple, laughed 
outright. Lesears turned angrily, and striding 
quickly up to him shook his fist in the man’s face. 
I watched the two with a thrill of anticipation, hop- 
ing that the affair would lead to a fight, and give me 
the long looked for opportunity of stealing down to 
Sibyl and assisting her in flight, during the ensuing 
excitement. But, to my surprise and intense disgust, 
the mate, who was much the stronger of the two, 
merely turned upon his heel and vented what wrath 
the incident had aroused within him upon his men, 
cursing them roundly for their tardiness. 

These latter were engaged in packing up the camp 
paraphernalia, preparatory to conveying it to the 
launch which, it became quite evident, was expected 
at any moment. The dead sailor had, therefore, 
spoken the truth when he told me that his com- 
panions intended to take possession of the yacht. 
And realizing that with the appearance of the launch 
every possible chance of saving Sibyl would be lost, 


I Attempt a Rescue — And Fail 275 

I grew desperate in my determination to make a bold 
stroke for her freedom. 

Rising to my feet, I set off as fast as I could run 
on the loose sand, giving the camp a wide berth and 
not stopping until I reached the water’s edge. Here 
I was out of sight of the camp, and finding a con- 
venient boulder behind which to take cover, I anx- 
iously waited for the appearance of the launch and 
the culmination of my plot. 

Once Sibyl was aboard the launch I well knew 
that she would be lost to us forever, for the muti- 
neers would immediately take possession of the 
yacht, and within an hour that vessel would have left 
the island in its wake. It was hardly probable that 
the Colonel would leave the two elderly ladies and 
the helpless Captain aboard, while he and Sibyl came 
ashore; the danger of sudden and violent storms in 
this latitude was too great to permit of such a risk. 
The crew would, therefore, have only to board the 
yacht and weigh anchor to make good their escape 
to any port they saw fit. The fate of Sibyl would 
then be entirely in Lesears’ hands, and I had re- 
ceived enough evidence of the power he exerted over 
the girl, to know that there was very little likeli- 
hood of our ever seeing her again. 


276 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


Thus it was clear that the only hope of averting 
such a calamity lay in preventing the fugitive crew 
from boarding the yacht, no matter what it cost. 
And I determined to risk all in an attempt to sink or 
disable the launch when it appeared headed down 
the coast. From my position at the water’s edge I 
could make every shot from my revolver do irrepa- 
rable damage. The launch was constructed of the 
lightest material and, from the information given 
me by the dying sailor, I knew that there would be 
but one man aboard. It would be impossible to give 
this man warning before opening fire, owing to the 
close proximity of the camp. But with a fusillade of 
bullets tearing through the boat’s side, I felt that it 
would not be long before he took to the water, as 
affording the only protection from my shots. Fail- 
ing to do so, he must needs pay the forfeit of death, 
for, to me, there was that at stake which subordi- 
nated even human life. 

Watching and waiting while I formulated my 
plans, the time passed, but no launch appeared. I 
became assailed by the fear that, in some way, my 
plan had miscarried, and apprehensively ran back 
to the sand-hills overlooking the camp — not a soul 
remained ! Instinctively, I turned and looked in the 


I Attempt a Rescue — And Fail 277 


direction of the creek where the launch had been 
moored, and there, far away in the darkness, I saw a 
dim light slowly creeping toward the open sea ! 

There could be no doubt as to what had hap- 
pened. For some unknown reason, the original plan 
of bringing the launch down the coast had been 
changed, and the mutineers with their captive had 
walked to the creek, a distance of half a mile, and 
were already steaming for the yacht. 

The situation was now critical in the extreme, 
but I could entertain no thought of abandoning 
Sibyl to her fate without making a desperate effort 
to save her. The delay occasioned by getting the 
launch down the shallow creek, as well as the extra 
mile it would have to sail down the coast, gave me 
a considerable start in the race which was now in- 
evitable. If I could but reach the south end of the 
island and board the yacht before the launch arrived, 
I felt that all hope would not be lost. And casting 
away my cork helmet, I started along the hard, wet 
sand with every muscle strained to the utmost in an 
effort to attain speed. 

I had fully a mile to cover, and had run more 
than half the distance before realizing that the 
launch was not following me. The discovery at 


278 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


first filled me with dismay. I came to a sudden stop, 
gasping for breath and peering anxiously into the 
murky darkness that overhung the sea. For the 
moment, the only explanation that occurred to me 
was that I had again mistaken the intentions of the 
mutineers and that, instead of attempting to capture 
the yacht, they had headed the launch direct for the 
mainland. But, upon calmer reflection, I realized 
that such a proceeding was highly improbable, for 
if they had known of the near proximity of the 
mainland, they would certainly not have landed upon 
the island in the first instance. Moreover, to attempt 
to escape in the launch would entail certain capture, 
as we would be left with the means of following 
them. The most feasible explanation of their dis- 
appearance was that they had gone around the island 
in the opposite direction, and setting my teeth I 
again took to the wet sand, running at top speed. 

Despite a painful stitch in my side, I did not 
slacken my pace until I had reached the rocks upon 
the south shore of the island. Here I was compelled 
to proceed more slowly, scrambling over the moss- 
covered boulders at the imminent peril of slipping 
down into the deep crevices between them. But the 
enforced delay gave me a chance to recover my 


I Attempt a Rescue — And Fail 279 


breath, and it was not long before I rounded the 
projecting cliff and found myself at the southern- 
most end of the island, and almost in the midst of 
a remarkable scene of domestic felicity. 

Upon the beach, within a hundred yards of the 
rock upon which I stood, there blazed a cheerful 
camp-fire, the lurid glow of the flames revealing 
Mrs. Cavashaw, her sister, the invalid Captain, and 
Spike, all calmly reading, in happy oblivion of the 
tragic state of affairs about them. Two canvas 
tents had been erected upon the sand and, judging 
from the amount of camp paraphernalia, the party 
had come ashore with the intention of remaining for 
several days. The yacht’s pontoon life-raft, which 
lay moored at the water’s edge, bore evidence of how 
the landing had been effected, as well as furnished 
me with a means of carrying my plans to com- 
pletion. 

But hardly had I time to note these things before 
the rattle of a chain, out over the dark waters of the 
bay, told me that all my efforts had been in vain. 
There was no mistaking the significance of the 
sound. I knew only too well that the launch with 
its captive had already reached the yacht, unob- 
served by those on shore, and that the sailors were 


280 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


even now weighing anchor preparatory to leaving 
the island behind them ! 

Nor were my ears the only ones that caught the 
ominous sound. Both ladies jumped to their feet, 
screaming with terror as they looked seaward, al- 
though quite ignorant of the worst feature of the 
crime that was being perpetrated before their eyes. 
To me, knowing as I did that the sailing of the yacht 
meant infinitely more than mere abandonment upon 
a small island, the metallic sound rang with all the 
indescribable horror of a death-knell. But I was 
utterly helpless. To reach the yacht on the ponder- 
ous life-raft was impossible — within five minutes the 
vessel would be clear of the bay and heading, under 
full pressure of steam, for the mainland. 

Upon a pinnacle of rock which rose perpendic- 
ularly out of the bay, I stood silently contemplating 
the close of the tragedy, overwhelmed by an un- 
speakable anguish. I do not recall, at this time, that 
a single ray of hope penetrated that awful pall of 
despair. It may be otherwise — it may be that, in my 
great need, I was given a wisdom too subtle, too 
subitaneous, for me to mark for future analysis. I 
don't know. But in an instant of exultation, quite 
indefinable, I had plunged headlong into the water. 


I Attempt a Rescue — And Fail 281 


and was swimming with powerful strokes across the 
bay, toward the faint outline of the yacht which 
loomed up huge and black against the starlit void 
beyond. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


I DETERMINE NOT TO TURN BACK. 

My reckless act, in thus plunging precipitately 
into the bay, was not in pursuance of any plan to 
rescue Sibyl. I realized the utter futility of what I 
was doing. Even if I succeeded in reaching the 
yacht before it got under way, I knew that one half- 
starved and completely exhausted man had but small 
chance against a whole crew. It was not that. I 
had not fallen victim to a frenzied melodramatic 
vision of my rescuing the woman I loved, alone and 
unaided, from a band of vicious desperadoes. It is 
quite possible that a saner brain than was mine, after 
the experiences of the preceding thirty-six hours, 
might have hesitated at such a desperate course. 
Madness, to be sure, might have accounted for my 
act. 

But whatever the cause, I was possessed by the one 
intense desire of reaching Sibyl, even if I was struck 
down a second later; of extending to the grief- 
282 


I Determine not to Turn Back 283 

stricken girl, whose sense of loneliness in the world 
was ever acute, a brotherly hand ; of letting her feel 
that she was not alone in the brutal fight that was 
being waged against her ; of standing by her side and 
defending her to the bitter end; of finishing life 
as we had begun it — together ! 

Thus I struggled against the strong currents of 
the bay, until I was within fifty feet of the yacht’s 
stern, and could hear the subdued voice of the mate 
issuing final orders from the bridge. Realizing that 
in another moment the vessel would be under way, 
I put forth all my remaining strength in one su- 
preme effort, when suddenly there occurred some- 
thing which literally paralyzed me with horror. 

With lightning movement, yet unaccompanied 
by so much as a ripple, the huge body of a shark 
shot beneath me. Instantly I recalled the tactics of 
the monster we had killed the previous day, how it 
had reconnoitered in a similar fashion as a prelude to 
a more deadly encounter with its prey, and in my 
abject terror I would fain have leaped out of the 
water. I saw the flash of its white throat as the 
creature turned upon his side for the final dart, sim- 
ultaneously there was a roar of water in my ears, 
and I was swept aside, choking and half drowned, 


284 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


amid a creamy lather of seething foam which em- 
anated from the yacht’s propellers. 

It was some moments before I recovered my scat- 
tered wits enough to realize that I was still alive, 
and that the churning of the yacht’s propellers had 
saved me — in an uncomfortably literal sense — from 
the very jaws of death. The sudden and violent dis- 
turbance had undoubtedly frightened off the shark, 
for I saw no more of it. Nor did the intense an- 
guish with which I witnessed the yacht thus elude 
my grasp, permit of any further thought of personal 
danger. 

With ever increasing speed the dark hull glided 
away from me. I swam desperately, franticly after 
it, as though my feeble strokes could be of any avail 
against the powerful revolutions of the engines. 
Still I continued the ridiculous race to the open sea, 
my strength utterly gone, and my head sinking lower 
in the water at each weakening stroke, with but one 
determination left — that of never turning back! 
********* 

I was awakened, from what seemed to have been a 
vivid dream of my own life in panorama, by the 
sound of voices close at hand. I was not swimming 
— my head was barely above water. I felt horribly 


I Determine not to Turn Back 285 

weak and stiff, and knew that the end must have been 
very near, but I thanked God that I had enough 
sense remaining to realize what had happened. 

From the shouting and oaths of the mate, I 
gleaned that the vessel had run her nose into a sand- 
bar at the mouth of the harbor. Her engines had 
promptly been reversed, and she was now almost 
upon me, coming stern first. At the sight of this 
deliverance, it was as if I threw off the very cloak of 
death and sprang back into life and hope. I had 
been weak before, but now I was fired with a fervid 
exultation which endowed me with almost super- 
human strength. 

As the great hulk bore slowly down upon me, I 
seized the rudder-chain which hung from the stern, 
and pulled myself up clear of the propellers to a posi- 
tion over the rudder. Here I stayed, through sheer 
inability to climb further. Wedging myself firmly 
between the chain and its lower fastening, I hung 
limp and dizzy. A deathly sickness came over me 
which I thought must surely be the end. 

But after the worst had passed I felt much better, 
and realized that it was but the protest of outraged 
Nature. My senses rapidly grew clearer, and soon, 
above the roar of the propellers which were now 


286 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

forging ahead, I heard the sound of voices. These, 
I found, reached me through an open saloon port- 
hole, situated immediately above my head. I listened 
intently, straining my ears in an effort to ascertain 
whether one was a woman’s voice, but the roar of 
water beneath me drowned all but the merest sug- 
gestion of muttered words. 

Looking up at the open port again, I saw that the 
aperture was large enough to admit my body. 
Here, then, lay an ideal way of getting aboard the 
yacht, for I should be in immediate possession of 
food and dry ammunition, both of which were kept 
in the saloon. It would be an easy matter to climb 
to the window and watch for an opportunity of 
scrambling in unobserved. And once fortified with 
food and ammunition, I could settle with those 
aboard as I chanced to meet them in my search for 
Sibyl. 

With some effort, I arose from my cramped posi- 
tion above the rudder, and pulling myself up by the 
chain to a standing posture, rested my feet where my 
body had been wedged. Hardly had I done so, when 
one of the voices above me was raised in loud tones 
of anger, the words being quickly followed by a 
woman’s terrified scream. 


I Determine not to Turn Back 287 

With a leap, I sprang up the chain hand over hand, 
maddened now beyond any sense of weakness or 
danger. A few seconds of frantic climbing, and I 
could see into the saloon 

Sibyl was standing at the far side of the room, 
her back was to the wall, and in her raised hand she 
held the stiletto I had given her, poised above her 
head in an attitude of defense. While circling about 
her, now cringing and fawning, now uttering vile 
oaths and literally stamping with rage, was the 
owner of the deadly weapon under which he cow- 
ered. 

Lesears’ back was turned to me, and had I been 
able to reach across to the open port, I might have 
climbed into the saloon without his knowledge. But 
I found that the formation of the vessel’s stern had 
swung me too far out to make this possible, nor did 
I succeed in drawing Sibyl’s attention to the window. 

There was not a moment to lose. Quick action, 
and that of a decisive kind, was imperative ; and set- 
ting my teeth in grim determination to meet the 
worst, I pulled myself up to the deck and peered 
cautiously about. Save for the burly figure of 
Swenaldi, the mate, who paced restlessly up and 
down on the bridge, not a soul was in sight. And in 


288 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


another moment, I had climbed over the rail and was 
standing upon the deck, erect and alert, prepared to 
take the initiative in case my sudden emergence from 
the sea had been observed by some of the crew. 

But I soon became convinced that, as yet, my 
presence aboard was a surprise in store for them — 
although how long it would remain so, was a matter 
upon which I had not the courage to speculate. 
Cautiously I crept forward and, descending to the 
lower deck, made a bold advance to the saloon 
companionway. To my utter dismay, the door was 
locked upon the inside ! 

The forward companionway offered the only other 
means of reaching the saloon, but to use it would 
necessitate passing the men’s quarters in the fore- 
castle. Moreover, it was obviously impossible to 
walk forward, without being seen by the mate the 
instant I passed under the bridge. Thus defeat 
seemed suddenly to stare me in the face ! 

I must have started forward mechanically, for I 
was still undecided upon what action to take, when 
the gruff voice of Swenaldi, challenging me from the 
bridge, warned me that I had been seen. 

“ Hi there, ye lubber ! ” he cried insolently. 
“ What are ye up to now ? I heard ye scrapping 


I Determine not to Turn Back 289 


down there, an’ if ye’ve thrown that gal overboard, 
d n ye, I’ll see that ye follow her.” 

It was evident that, in the darkness, the mate had 
mistaken me for Lesears, the similarity of our fig- 
ures and dress, combined with the circumstances, 
making the error quite a natural one. Accordingly, 
I continued on my way to the forecastle, hoping that, 
in the absence of any retort, he would not pursue 
the matter further. But, alas, it was clear that the 
status of my rival amongst his chosen comrades 
had fallen considerably, as evinced by the mate’s 
surly manner of address; and my action only re- 
sulted in arousing the fellow’s fury. 

“ Stop, will ye ! ” came the angry enjoinment, 
coupled with a fierce oath. “ Come back here, until 
I speak with ye ! ” 

At this, I abandoned all attempts to conceal my 
identity, and made a dash for the companionway, 
only to hear the unmistakable sound of the mate 
leaping down from the bridge with ominous bounds. 
Glancing down the ladder, I saw that one of the 
crew was seated upon the lower step, peeling pota- 
toes. It was impossible to pass him without being 
detected, and yet to hesitate now would be to lose 
all, for the mate was hot upon my trail. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


MY MEETING WITH SIBYL. 

An instant later, I was in mid-air, having taken 
the entire flight in one leap. I landed upon the 
shoulders of the seaman below, knocking him half 
senseless to the floor, amid a crashing of pans and a 
volley of drunken oaths from the forecastle. It was 
no time for apologies, and before the men had re- 
covered from their fright, I was speeding along 
the passage to the saloon. Without waiting for 
words, I hurled myself against the door, tearing 
the fastenings from the frail woodwork and burst- 
ing precipitately into the room. 

Lesears stood with an armful of pillows, which 
he had taken from the couch with the obvious in- 
tention of using as a shield against the deadly 
weapon which Sibyl still held poised above her head. 
At the sight of me, he sprang back, aghast, snatch- 
ing up a revolver from the table as he did so. But 
I was too quick for him. With a terrific blow on the 
290 


291 


My Meeting with Sibyl 

head, I sent him reeling against the wall, to pounce 
upon him an instant later and drag him half dazed 
to the door. 

“ You dog ! ” I muttered savagely. “ Get out of 
my reach, before I am tempted to kill you! ” 

With all my force I hurled him into the passage, 
where he came into violent collision with the mate, 
who had just arrived at top speed. And before 
either of the men could regain his feet, I had my 
weight against the door, calling out that I would 
fire through the panels if any attempt was made to 
force an entrance. 

My threat had its effect, and I heard both men beat 
a hasty retreat into the shelter of a near-by state- 
room, from which issued sinister mutterings. But 
I could not hope for many minutes' respite. The 
whole crew would soon be summoned, and then a 
combined attack would undoubtedly be made upon 
both doors simultaneously. 

I glanced back at Sibyl, only to discover that the 
poor girl was beyond rendering me any aid. Hav- 
ing shown a man’s courage in defending herself, 
alone, against her assailant, now that deliverance had 
come, she proved herself none the less a woman by 
fainting. 


292 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


With Lesears’ revolver in my hand ready for in- 
stant action, I moved swiftly across the saloon and 
dragged the heavy wine-chest to the door, making it 
immovable by wedging other articles of furniture 
between it and the table. The other door, which 
opened directly upon deck, was made to resist the 
force of heavy seas, and was too strongly con- 
structed to yield to anything short of a battering- 
ram. 

But it was not from the doors that I feared an 
attack, so much as from the windows. There were 
seven of these around three sides of the saloon, one 
situated at the stern, and six opening upon the deck 
to port and starboard respectively. With a man at 
each of these windows we would make easy targets, 
with but little chance of retaliation. I therefore ex- 
tinguished all the lights, not only that our where- 
abouts in the room might be unknown to our enemy, 
but also that I might the more readily discern their 
appearance at the windows, and take the initiative. 

Having done what I could to make our strong- 
hold impregnable, I turned my attention to Sibyl. 
Raising the limp form from the floor, I placed her 
out of the reach of bullets fired through either the 
doors or port-holes. The room was not totally dark, 


My Meeting with Sibyl 


293 


the brilliant moonlight giving just sufficient radiance 
within for me to discern the exquisite features of 
the unconscious girl. 

I thought how beautiful she looked, and how 
strange it was that we should be together thus, she 
and I . . . . It was worth all I had gone through 
— a thousand times all I had gone through! . . . 
I could have caressed her then; I could have fallen 
on my knees at her side, and poured forth the con- 
fessions of the love that had brought me to 
her. . . . Why had I not done so before? . . . 
Soon, I should have to resist a combined attack upon 
our stronghold. ... It could not last long. . . . 
And the end would find us — as I had hoped it would 
— together! . . . But what a mockery Fate had 
made of the word — nay, had I been divorced from 
her, it would have carried infinitely more meaning 
than it did now! . . . 

Thus, in an agony of thought, I knelt by the side 
of her for whom I had abandoned all — so divinely 
beautiful in the calm dignity of unconsciousness — 
permitting myself only to clasp her hands, and 
tenderly, remorsefully, to kiss them. Nor would I 
have risen from my knees until she had returned to 
consciousness, had it not been that I, too, was in 


294 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


momentary danger of collapsing from sheer lack of 
nourishment. 

Procuring some crackers from the sideboard, I 
ate them ravenously, washing the dry meal down 
with some Burgundy, which remained as sole evi- 
dence of the Colonel’s stock of choice wines. I 
could have wished for something more substantial in 
the way of food, but in my starved condition the 
crackers and wine worked wonders. I felt my- 
self rapidly gaining strength and courage, and even 
became sanguine regarding our chances of escape. 

There was one circumstance upon which I pinned 
my hopes — half an hour had already elapsed, and 
still I remained in undisputed possession of the sa- 
loon. Why had the mutineers, incited by the Col- 
onel’s perfidious guest, not made an attack? Could 
it be that there was dissension amongst them ? The 
crew — now that Bill, their Bowery ringleader, had 
gone — were, after all, a lot of honest British sailors ; 
had they refused to do murder at the mate’s bidding? 

I had approached one of the port-holes and was 
cautiously peering out, when I heard a frightened 
whisper behind me. Turning, I saw Sibyl standing 
erect and ghostlike in the moonlight, her whole 
attitude one of abject terror. 


295 


My Meeting with Sibyl 

“ Hello, Sib ! ” I exclaimed, with a ridiculous 
effort at buoyancy. “ How do you feel now ? ” 

“ Who’s there ! Who is it ? ” she gasped, recoiling 
instinctively as I advanced from the dark side of the 
room. 

“ Why, Edgar, of course,” I said, reassuringly. 
“ And pray who else dares to call you ‘ Sib ’ ? ” 

But, despite my nonchalance, the girl gazed 
around her in terrified apprehension. 

“ Tell me — what awful thing has happened that 
we are in the dark ? ” she whispered. “ Where is 
dad and mother and Aunt Janet — are they all on 
board now ? Why, you are wet through ! ” she 
added quickly, as, in her eagerness, she clutched my 
arm. And then, catching sight of the barricaded 
door in the dim light, she suddenly comprehended 
the true situation, and sank down on the couch weep- 
ing bitterly. — With a woman’s intuition, she had 
guessed all ! 

“ Oh, Edgar, Edgar, what have you done ! 99 she 
sobbed. “ How could you throw away your life like 
this, for — for me! It is suicide — just deliberate 
suicide ! ” 

I knelt beside her, and taking the trembling hand 
within both of mine, raised it reverently to my lips. 


296 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


“ You are my life, dear Sibyl,” I whispered tenderly. 
“ In coming to you, I merely sought to save my 
life — it were suicide had I not done so.” 

“ Then they shall not — they cannot take your life, 
Edgar, for even in death you shall have it — in me! ” 
The words fell from Sibyl’s lips in a scarcely 
audible whisper, but as she lifted her tear-stained 
face to mine, the meaning of them was only too 
clear. Never had I seen her so transcendently 
beautiful as she appeared at that moment of 
avowed sacrifice. Her eyes shone with a light that 
was divine, and, instantly, I realized that all I had 
done, all I had risked, was naught in comparison to 
that which I had received in return. 

“ Dearest,” she whispered, holding me away from 
her as she gazed into my eyes questioningly, yet with 
a look of intense yearning, “ dearest, if you had 
known that I was nobody — just a waif — would you 
have come to me ? In spite of anything, everything, 
would you have come to me? ” 

And when I had confessed all, even to the despair 
in which I had plunged into the bay, she drew my 
head down close to hers, and murmured : “ Oh, I 
understand, I understand — my poor, brave boy ! ” 
Our lips met — not eagerly, not with passionate 


My Meeting with Sibyl 


297 


haste, but with a thrill of unutterable joy which left 
us bound together by a tacit vow as solemn and as 
unbreakable as any spoken at the altar. 

How long we remained thus, I have no notion, for 
when the cup of love and ecstasy is filled to over- 
flowing, time has no place. I had forgotten our 
desperate plight — I had forgotten the deadly and 
inevitable struggle that each moment made more 
imminent — when Sibyl suddenly sprang to her feet 
in a paroxysm of terror. 

“ What is that?” she whispered. “ Listen 1 
listen!” 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


I SAVE AN ENEMY. 

Angry curses, and the sound of shuffling feet at 
the far end of the passage, were plainly audible, and 
seizing my revolver I stood ready to empty it 
through the panels of the door at the first intimation 
of an attack. I besought Sibyl to return to the 
sheltered corner of the saloon, which she reluctantly 
did, but in her hand there glistened the terrible 
weapon with which she had previously defended her- 
self. The sight of it, and the thought of how she 
might use it, were I to fall, wrung from me a silent 
but fervent prayer for our deliverance. 

Thus we stood momentarily expecting an assault 
upon the door, but still the shuffling feet, accom- 
panied by heavy breathing and frantic cursing, came 
no nearer. The suspense became unendurable! I 
turned, for a moment, and looked at Sibyl — the 
poor girl seemed to be upon the very verge of 
collapse. 


298 


299 


I Save an Enemy 

“ Be brave, darling,” I whispered, “ — as brave as 
you were before I came! We can hold our own 
until ” 

My words were drowned by a piercing scream, 
which came from the far end of the passage. A cry 
of mortal agony it was, horribly reverberant in the 
uncanny stillness that had suddenly fallen. In- 
stinctively I started toward the door, but Sibyl cried 
a warning to me. 

“No, no, Edgar, don’t open the door!” she 
pleaded. “ It is just a trick by which they hope to 
catch us off our guard — they are too cowardly to 
fight!” 

I hesitated, but the sound of tottering steps com- 
ing down the passage, and the choking voice of 
Lesears calling upon me, in God’s name, to open 
the door, started me pulling away the obstructing 
furniture in a fever of haste. Much as I hated the 
man, there was that about his voice which warned 
me that if I ignored his plea, I should be guilty of 
aiding in a foul murder. 

Nor did I intervene a moment too soon, for as 
the door opened Lesears fell in a heap over the 
threshold, while the mate, brandishing a blood- 
stained knife above his head, was in the act of 


300 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


striking a final blow. Had not feminine instinct 
prompted Sibyl to turn on the lights, I myself must 
surely have fallen under the descending blade. 

The man was beside himself with fury. Murder 
gleamed in his evil eyes as he raised aloft his knife 
to take revenge upon me, and I realized at once that 
it meant death for one of us. Almost mechanically, 
I fired, narrowly escaping the keen edge of the 
knife, as the lifeless body plunged heavily forward 
with the weapon still clutched in the unguided 
hand. 

Hearing others of the crew coming down the 
passage, I dragged Lesears into the saloon and 
hastily barricaded the door again, calling out, as 
before, that I would shoot through the panels unless 
they withdrew. 

“ You've no need to fear ’em, Carlie boy,” drawled 
a weak voice behind me. “ Those chaps wouldn’t 
touch a hair of your head, else you’d have been a 
dead man long ago ! ” 

I turned and gazed at the speaker in amazement, 
not so much as a result of what he had said, as at 
the jocular manner in which he had spoken. He 
was lying where I had dragged him in my haste 
to shut the door, his drawn face bearing ample 


I Save an Enemy 


301 


evidence of his intense suffering. And yet, there 
played about his mouth an amused smile! 

“ Take my tip, o’man,” he continued, after com- 
pressing his lips as though to smother a groan, “ go 
right out and lord it over ’em. They haven’t got a 
grain of ammunition amongst ’em, and if they had 
they’d sooner use it on me than on you. I’ll gamble 
you’ll find ’em celebrating the demise of the mate, 

tickled, no end, that you finished him so ” 

He broke off abruptly, muttering something under 
his breath and writhing with pain. I glanced quickly 
over at Sibyl. She sat at the table, her face buried 
in her hands, as though to shut out the horror of 
what had occurred. I felt that it would be nothing 
short of brutal to ask her to help me with Lesears. 

“ You had better let me carry you to the couch,” 
I said, turning to my stricken enemy. “ If there is 
nothing to fear from the crew, I can attend to your 
wound before going out to interview them. Any- 
way, I can’t leave you there ! ” 

“ Better not move me, o’man. I’m easier now, 
much — much easier.” 

“ But something has got to be done to stop that 
bleeding,” I persisted, bending over him. 

“ No, no ! Hang the bleeding ! It will be all the 


302 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

same in two hours from now, whatever you do. . . . 
Don’t get fussy, Carlie boy ! Go out and receive the 
ovations of the crew ” 

“ Come now,” I said persuasively, as I carefully 
placed my hands beneath the wounded man, “ let me 
patch you up a bit first. You’ve got more than a 
cut finger, I’ll admit, but you’re good for a season 
or two yet.” 

Thus humoring the tortured man, I lifted him 
gently from the floor and carried him to the couch, 
where he sank back utterly exhausted with pain. I 
found that the knife-wound passed directly through 
the left lung, having missed his heart by barely an 
inch, and realizing how desperate was his condition 
I hurriedly set about doing all I could to relieve the 
poor fellow. 

Within five minutes I had him bandaged, to the 
best of my ability, with strips of linen torn from a 
sheet. Not a sound escaped him during the entire 
operation, although I could see that his lips were 
firmly compressed in an effort to keep from crying 
out in agony. 

His head was turned sideways, and he kept his 
eyes steadily fixed upon Sibyl, who had not moved 
from the position in which I had first observed her. 


I Save an Enemy 


303 


At first I had merely attributed this to her natural 
horror of all that had transpired, and her subsequent 
overwhelming emotions. But I now realized that 
there might have been a time when Sibyl actually 
cared for Lesears; until his brutal treatment of her 
had brought about a revulsion of feeling. Was it 
a reaction from this, a feeling of remorse and 
sympathy, that had overcome her upon finding her 
lover at death’s door? Was it, indeed, a longing 
for that very sympathy and forgiveness, that kept 
the dying man’s eyes fixed upon the girl he had 
persecuted? At such a time, my claim was sub- 
ordinate; in fact, I felt that the situation was ex- 
tremely delicate, and one which did not permit of 
my interference, or even of my presence. 

For a moment, I stood contemplating my patient 
in silence. 

“Feel any better?” I asked quietly. 

But he did not turn his head, or give any sign that 
he had heard me. His face, however, was answer 
enough to my question, and I realized that he had 
rightly estimated his lease upon life when he had 
limited it to two hours. 

Thus I left them — the dying man and the girl 
whom he had maltreated, and who now remained 


304 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

with him as a balm, or a reproach, to his last mo- 
ments. At the door I glanced back, but neither 
moved, or otherwise showed the slightest interest in 
my actions, and I left the scene, appalled by the 
unspeakable tragedy of it. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


SIBYL AND LESEARS. 

Grasping my weapon ready for instant action, 
should there be any evidence of treachery, I pro- 
ceeded cautiously down the passage. I had not 
gone far, however, before I was made to realize the 
truth of Lesears’ words — indeed, that the crew were 
only too pleased at the outcome of the three-sided 
struggle. At the foot of the forecastle companion- 
way I encountered the burly figure of Sam. 

“ Lord bless us, guv’nor,” he cried, “ put up that 
there gun! Yer wouldn’t shoot a lot of honest 
British tars, as is only too ’appy to see yer ’ealthy 
face agin, would yer? ” 

“ That remains to be seen,” said I, sternly. “ I’ll 
shoot the first man that gives trouble, depend upon 
it! You are a lot of mutineers, and must abide by 
the consequences.” 

“ But look ’ere, sir — I ain’t allowin’ that yer 

wrong, mind, and I ain’t allowin’ that yer right ” 

305 


306 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

“ I’m not going to argue the matter with 
you/’ I retorted brusquely. “ Assemble your 
comrades on deck, I’ve got something to say to 
you all.” 

There was no need to go hunting for the re- 
mainder of the crew, as they were already gathering 
around us, some of them emerging shame-facedly 
from the staterooms upon either side of the passage. 
I backed away from such close contact with these 
none too trusty men, and ordered them up the com- 
panionway ahead of me. 

Once upon deck, however, they soon convinced me 
of their loyalty to the Colonel. There was some 
inarticulate grumbling as I counted them at the point 
of my revolver, and finally one of their number 
stepped awkwardly out of the line and, with a highly 
grieved countenance, pointed over my shoulder to 
the bow. 

“Dyer see yon light, sir?” he said sulkily. 
“ Well, it don’t take one wot ’as been ter sea all ’is 
life, ter see as ’ow we’re ’eading for it, jist about as 
straight as we can ’ead ! ” 

“ Well, what of it? ” said I, sharply, disliking the 
fellow’s impudent manner, and not caring to risk 
turning my head in the direction indicated. 


Sibyl and Lesears 


307 


“ Yon light is the island where the Colonel and 
Missus is, God bless ’em ! ” rejoined the sailor more 
civilly. “ And since we lowered the mate to Davy 
Jones’s, we’ve been ’eading for it — ain’t that right, 
boys ? ” 

A chorus of affirmative grunts was the response. 

“ Good ! ” I exclaimed warmly, unable to suppress 
my satisfaction as the true situation became 
apparent. " If what you say is true, my men, you 
are doing the right thing, and I don’t think you will 
ever have cause to regret it.” 

“ Well, wot we’d like ter know, sir, is jist this,” 
continued the spokesman, after he had received 
sundry mysterious promptings from his comrades. 
“ Yer know wot yer said ter Sam ’ere, as never did 
no man a wrong turn — yer know wot yer said to 
’im, sir, don’t yer? ” 

“ What?” I queried. 

“ As ’ow we were a lot of mutineers, an’ as ’ow 
yer’d shoot us, an’ all that.” 

“ Yes,” I admitted, “ that’s how I felt about it, 
at the time.” 

“ Well, we ain’t a wantin’ ter say aught agin wot 
you says, guv’nor, for wot you says goes. But it 
don’t seem jist right like ter say as ’ow we’re 


308 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


mutineers, when we is ’eading for the island as ’ard 
as we can ’ead.” 

“ I understand,” I replied, turning and looking 
meditatively at the distant light which twinkled 
upon the horizon like a big star, and which was 
plainly the camp-fire upon the island. “ I’ve no 
doubt that Colonel Cavashaw will overlook your 
desertion, when he learns that you were influenced 
by the mate.” 

“ Influenced ! ” cried Sam, completely unable to 
control himself at this apparent injustice. “ Lord 
bless yer, sir, ’e 'eld ’is gun to our ’eds all the time, 
and we ’adn’t so much as a pistol amongst us, or ’e 
would ’ave been full o’ lead long ere this! It wus 
’im as shot Bill on the island, arter sending ’im ter 
catch the gal. ’E ’ated Bill, did the mate, an’ shot 
’im down from the rear, when ’e thought the rest of 
us weren’t lookin’. An’ then ’e tells Bill as ’ow the 
gal did it, being mighty ’andy with her pistol, says 
’e.” 

This new piece of information was as startling as 
it was acceptable, freeing Sibyl as it did from the 
onus of having taken life. 

“ Are you sure of that ? ” I demanded. 

“ Sure as death, guv’nor ! Ain’t it so, Joe? ” 


Sibyl and Lesears 


309 


“ Gospel truth ! Didn’t Bill say as ’ow ’e’d get the 
dago some day, an’ the mate turns an’ says ’e’d get 
’im fust.” 

“ Well,” said I, “ this puts a new light upon 
things generally. You men take the vessel back to 
the island, and I’ll give you my word that matters 
shall be explained satisfactorily to the Colonel.” 

“ Thank’e, sir,” was the chorus of approval, 
“ thank’e kindly ! An’ it’s no more ’an wot we al- 
ways said you’d do fer us ! ” And a half dozen 
horny hands were thrust into mine and vigorously 
shaken. 

Thus encouraged, the men went smartly about 
their work, while I quietly disappeared below to re- 
assure Sibyl and also to take a look at my patient. 

Thinking that the wounded man might be sleep- 
ing, I strove to enter the saloon as quietly as pos- 
sible. The precaution was quite a natural one, in 
the circumstances, nor did I suspect for a moment 
that my noiseless entrance would reveal aught that 
was not intended for my eyes. And yet I neither 
turned from what I saw, nor did I experience the 
slightest resentment. 

Sibyl stood, with her back to me, beside the couch 
upon which Lesears lay. She remained thus for a 


310 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

moment and then, bending over the dying man, she 
kissed his forehead, tenderly smoothing back the 
lank hair and holding her face caressingly against 
his. Not a word accompanied her action, the only 
sound which broke the impressive silence being the 
deep groan with which the girl finally sank to her 
knees at the bedside, in an attitude of prayer. 

This movement revealed to Lesears my presence 
and, as I advanced, he smiled feebly. His lips 
moved in some inarticulate words, which I eagerly 
bent over him to catch. 

“ You mustn’t mind,” he murmured. “ It’s not 
for long!” 

“ How do you feel ? ” I asked. 

“Weak! Gad — weak!” And then: “Is it all 
right for Sibyl to go to her room now? ” he whis- 
pered feebly. 

I nodded, glancing at the girl who remained 
motionless. 

“ Tell her then — I’ve got something to say to you 
— tell her!” 

I paused a moment in doubt. “ Sibyl,” I said 
quietly, “ it is quite safe for you to go to your room, 
if you wish.” 

Without a word, indeed, almost mechanically, the 


“Bending over the dying man, she kissed his forehead .” — -Page 310. 




Sibyl and Lesears 


311 


girl rose to her feet and left the saloon, Lesears fol- 
lowing her with his eyes until she passed out of the 
door. 

“ It’s not for long ! ” he repeated, with a faint 
smile. 

“ Nonsense,” I replied cheerfully. “ We'll have 
you in a doctor's hands by to-morrow morning, at 
the latest. With proper care, you’ll pull through all 
right, and be as debonair as ever.” 

He shook his head wearily. “ Carlie boy,” he 
whispered, “you’re a brick! Who’d have thought 
you'd be saying these pretty things to me ! ” 

“Come, come!” I protested. “A patient must 
not criticise his nurse's methods.” 

“ Gad, but you can be as gentle as a child — 
or as rough as a mad bull! That blow of yours, 
o'man, was a stunner — it would have felled an ox! 
Jarred me, no end. Never forget it, as long as I 
live!” 

“ Yes, you will,” I replied, thoughtlessly. 

“ I’ll have to be hanged smart about it then ! — 
No, Carlie boy, no; that lump on my forehead, 
where your fist introduced itself, is a life-mark, all 
right — and I'm proud of it.” 

“ I’d give anything, now, to have it on mine ! ” 


312 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


I exclaimed passionately, my voice choking with 
emotion. 

The dying man turned his head painfully, and 
gave me a look of eager surprise. 

“ Gad, but that’s the finest thing I’ve ever heard ! ” 
he murmured weakly. “ Would to God I could live 
to be your friend, Carlie boy! E’faith, it’s small 
wonder that women love you ! ” 

“ That honor belongs entirely to you, Lesears,” 
I said. 

“Not genuinely, o’man, no, no! — far from it! 

All the love I’ve had has been stolen I’ve 

robbed others of their love by hypnotic suggestion, 
just as one might rob a man of his gold. . . . Sibyl 
does not love me — she loves you, and I have stolen 
the affection she would give you. 

“ No, no,” he protested quickly, “ don’t interrupt 
me ! I’ve a right to speak — gad, more right than I 
have strength ! 

“ I had absolute control over Sibyl, always, until 
to-night, when she set her mind against me. I lost 
it then, and, like a fool, tried to regain it by brute 
force. You appeared upon the scene in time to pre- 
vent that, and — and ” 

His voice died away suddenly, and he raised a 


Sibyl and Lesears 


313 


hand with the helpless, imploring gesture of a 
drowning man. I lifted him gently, placing him 
higher upon his pillow, and he smiled gratefully. 

“ Don’t talk,” I said, soothingly. 

“ Yes, yes ! ” he whispered. His voice was hardly 
audible now, and I bent close to him to lighten his 
effort. “ You prevented that, o’ — o’man . . . and, 
afterwards, when I felt that I was going for — for 
good, I wanted Sibyl to see me off. . . . She was 
sitting there upon the verge of collapse, ... it 
was easy to get control of — of her then . . . and 
when you’d gone, I made her . . . come to me. 
. . . You know — you — you know the rest. ... 99 

I nodded, hoping that the poor fellow would spare 
himself any further effort at speech. But after a 
short pause, during which he seemed to be strug- 
gling desperately to keep awake, he continued. 

“ Nearer, Carlie boy, — come nearer,” he pleaded, 
as I bent over him. “ Her farewell was not — was 
not genuine, but, gad, it was sweet to feel her lips 
and . . . her caressing hand . . . just as though 
she loved me, and was mighty sorry to — to see me 
go. You didn’t — you didn’t mind, did you, o’ — o’ — 
o’man. . . . I’m dying fast . . . and it helped 
smooth the way, you — you ” 


314 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


“ But don’t think that Sibyl’s distress was not 
genuine,” I said, feelingly. “ I do not know what 
power you hold over her, but I am convinced that 
she is heart-broken over this awful calamity. I 

will call her, that she may be near you ” 

“ No, no — not now, not now, o’man ! She will 
come be — before I go. Don’t speak to her, until I 
— I have gone. ... You . . . you will have proof 

then, Car — Car — Carlie ” 

He sank back on the pillow completely exhausted, 
and immediately lapsed into a deep sleep from which 
I feared he would never wake. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


THE PASSING OF LESEARS. 

Summoning a sailor, I left him on watch in the 
saloon, while I went up on deck to see that the 
launch was made ready for an immediate landing, 
as soon as this was possible. I found that the island 
was well within sight, the marooned party being 
clearly distinguishable through glasses, in the light 
of the gigantic fire they had built upon the beach. 

It seemed evident from their actions that they 
had seen our headlight, but merely took us for a 
passing ship, for they kept up a continual display of 
rockets, as a signal that they required help. These 
signals we were unable to answer, as the Colonel 
had taken all the rockets ashore, together with the 
salute gun. But this caused me no anxiety, as I felt 
that within an hour their minds would be eased with 
regard to our identity, as well as our destination. 

It was merely an afterthought that made me 
glance up at the masthead, to discover that, owing 
to the nefarious designs of the mate, we carried no 
3i5 


316 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

light at all. Obviously, therefore, those upon the 
island could not have seen us, and their signals were 
intended for other eyes than ours. 

Almost at the same instant that I made this dis- 
covery, an announcement came from the lookout. 
“ Ship ahoy! ” he called. 

“ Where? ” cried I. 

“ Lying to westward of the island, sir.” 

I trained my glasses in the direction indicated, and 
soon discerned a ship’s lights which, in the dazzling 
glare of the fire, had previously escaped my notice. 
From the size of the vessel and the numerous port- 
lights that twinkled in its hull, I judged that it was 
one of the luxurious liners, which ply between New 
York and the West Indies. It lay about a quarter 
of a mile off shore, and was clearly the cause of the 
Colonel’s signalling. 

“Lower away the launch,” I commanded; and 
summoning Sam, as being the most intelligent of 
the crew, I put him in charge of the boat with orders 
to make all possible speed to shore, that the Colonel 
might be acquainted with our whereabouts before 
it was too late. 

When all was ready, I instructed the sailor to re- 
port the death of the mate and seaman, and the des- 


The Passing of Leasars 


317 


perate condition of Lesears, leaving it to his em- 
ployer to make what arrangements he saw fit with 
regard to requisitioning an officer to take the yacht 
to port, but urging him to secure the services of the 
ship’s doctor without delay. Thus the launch sped 
away upon its important mission, which I hoped 
would be fulfilled in time to save the life that hung 
so tenaciously in the balance. 

The condition of Lesears, however, grew rapidly 
worse, and the poor fellow awoke from his short 
sleep in a high fever, and suffering intensely. I 
realized then that there was little hope of his ever 
reaching land alive, unless the launch returned with 
a doctor promptly. 

But fate was against the dying man. Vivid 
flashes of lightning in the south signalled the ap- 
proach of a heavy thunder-storm, and I knew that 
our boat would not risk returning until it had 
passed. 

I tried my best to console the sufferer, grasping 
his burning hand in both of mine, when he feebly 
begged for my forgiveness. His face was com- 
pletely changed in appearance, so drawn was it by 
intense pain, but he still retained his peculiar style 
of speech. 


318 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

“ Of course I forgive you, old man — think no 
more about it,” I replied, adopting his mannerism 
in order that he might not doubt my sincerity. 

He seemed gratified, but just before the storm 
broke he became restless again. “ Where's Sibyl ? ” 
he whispered, his eyes wandering about the saloon 
as though in search of her. “ It is time she was 
here ! ” And as I arose to summon her, he restrained 
me with a passionate exclamation : “ No, no ! Stay 
here! She must come. . . . Yes, . . . yes, she is 
coming ! ” 

I glanced toward the door, but Sibyl was not 
there ; and ere she arrived, he signalled me to draw 
near again. 

“ Turn out the light, Carlie boy,” he murmured 
weakly. “ I — I wouldn’t have her see my face as it 
is now — she’d never forget it, o’ — o’man, she’d 
never forget it ! ” 

I complied with his request, taking occasion, 
while my back was turned to him, to dash away the 
moisture which I found dimming my eyes. The only 
light, now, came from an oil lamp which hung in the 
passage. It cast its sickly yellow rays through the 
open door, accentuating the gloom in the saloon 
rather than affording any illumination. And yet the 


The Passing of Lesears 


319 


dying man did not seem satisfied. He murmured 
something which I did not catch, and before he could 
repeat it, Sibyl stood by the bedside. 

The girl had entered the room while I was leaning 
over Lesears, endeavoring to catch his feeble utter- 
ance. So soft and noiseless had been her approach 
that I was unaware of her arrival until, in the dark- 
ness, my hand encountered that of some one stand- 
ing erect and motionless at my side. 

Her sudden presence, the accidental contact of her 
cold hand, and the profound darkness and stillness of 
the death chamber, all conspired to arouse within me 
a sense of awe — a dread of something fearfully im- 
minent — and I fell back from the couch appalled, my 
eyes fixed upon the girl’s dim outline expectantly, 
apprehensively. 

The instant I moved, the silent figure stepped into 
my place and, kneeling, bowed her head until it 
rested upon the dying man’s breast. Her attitude, 
indeed, her whole bearing, was indicative of the most 
profound grief, or absolute subjection — I could not 
tell which. 

I knew that I should not remain, and yet I merely 
fell back into the gloom of the room and waited. 
Something held me there — something indescribably; 


320 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


awful, that stood by my side, an invisible, intangible 
personality, and seemed, in some way, to be conduct- 
ing the solemn ceremony at the death-bed. . . . 

I know not how long I thus stood waiting — for I 
was waiting! Time seemed to drift into eternity. 
The sense of fearful expectation was strong within 
me, and the suspense became awful ! . . . I strained 
my eyes into the darkness about the couch, but I 
could see nothing save the mere outline of Sibyl, 
silent and inert. . . . The very ticking of his watch 
was plainly audible in that strange stillness — a still- 
ness which seemed to be unfamiliarly noticeable even 
in inanimate things — and the accidental dropping of 
a coin caused me to start violently, and to break into 
a cold perspiration. 

It may have been mere fancy, the result of over- 
wrought nerves, but it seemed as if that uncanny 
silence existed without, too, as though the whole 
universe waited for that inevitable something , so 
near, so imminent! . . . 

And yet, not a whisper, not a movement occurred 
at the death-bed ! . . . 

What great rite was this? What supreme cere- 
mony could Death be performing? . . . 

And then, in the profound stillness — not suddenly. 


The Passing of Lesears 


321 


but stealthily creeping in upon the sacred silence — 
there came the low moaning of wind. Whining with 
melancholy note through the rigging, blowing in 
sudden and heavy gusts through open scuttles, and 
slamming doors, it increased every moment in vio- 
lence until, at last, it howled about the ill-omened 
ship with the fury of a pack of wolves. 

Instantly I recalled Lesears’ words, as we left 
New York : “ . . . and it'll be blowing like the 
devil when I drop out ” 

The predicted storm had broken ! 

I seemed to realize, for the first time, the awful- 
ness of the calamity that had overtaken him — he, a 
confessed thief of love! Surely there were mitigat- 
ing circumstances to his crime ! His pathetic words 
rang in my ears : “ It was not genuine, o’man, but, 
gad, it was sweet! ...” I was filled with a great 
anguish, a remorse, a compassion; and I thanked 
God that his last moments were being made happy by 
the knowledge that it zms genuine — that there knelt 
by his bedside the woman he loved, bowed low in 
grief which could not be questioned. 

Suddenly, above the shrieking of the wind, I heard 
his voice clear and triumphant. “ Carlie boy !” he 
called, “I’m going — going , o’ man!” 


322 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


I replied in some way — I know not how — as I 
groped my way to his side. But ere I reached him, a 
vivid flash of lightning revealed the last scene of 
this awful drama. . . . Lesears lay serene and 
peaceful, delineated like a thing of marble in the 
brilliant iridescence; while Sibyl stood transfixed at 
the bedside, her whole attitude one of unspeakable 
fear! The sight of the girl filled me with dismay — - 
she was dressed in mourning ! 

I shall never forget the deep sense of horror that 
this untoward act of Sibyl's — this anticipation of 
death — caused me. I was utterly unable to render 
the terrified girl the assistance and sympathy which, 
at that instant, might have alleviated the brutality 
of my mistake, in not having spared her the cruel 
experience. And during those fatal moments of 
my inaction, she recovered sufficiently to flee sob- 
bing from the room. 

It was then that there came to me a realization of 
the great tragedy that had occurred. This was the 
proof that Lesears had promised me — the proof 
that he controlled Sibyl's actions, and that her grief 
and affection were not genuine! She had changed 
to mourning, at his bidding, without having had 
any knowledge of her act, until she was released 


323 


The Passing of Lesears 

from his hypnotic control by the hand of Death. 
I realized now why Lesears had insisted upon 
the room being in darkness; why he had adjured 
me not to speak to Sibyl until it was all over. 
This was the proof ; and in the giving of it 
the penitent had planned a great atonement! It 
was a noble deed, made ignoble by the inevitable 
agony of Sibyl's awakening. Better, a thousand 
times, had he won the girl’s love and it had gone 
with him to the grave, than thus to have burles- 
qued it! 

I had no intention of seeking Sibyl and offering 
the explanation which I realized the circumstances 
demanded, until her distress was less acute. But 
finding her alone upon the after-deck, watching for 
the launch’s return in the first gray light of dawn, 
I softly approached her. 

She did not turn, or give any intimation that she 
;was aware of my presence. Her arms rested upon 
the rail, and there was a far-away look in her eyes 
as she gazed into the mists of early morning, — but 
no trace of tears. 

“ Sibyl— dear Sibyl ...” I began. 

There was nothing in her demeanor that sug- 
gested the least anger or resentment, but something 


324 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

stopped me. And ere I could continue, she said, in 
a voice hardly raised above a murmur : 

“ l cannot understand how you dare speak to 
me — I never wish to see you again! ” 

For some moments I stood like one in a dream, 
utterly unable to grasp the import of her words. 
At such instant crises the intellect is often slow to 
comprehend even the simplest situation. I had not 
expected her denunciation. I had sought to meet 
her sorrow with responsive sympathy, and with 
proof of my deep affection for her. . . . How could 
I have done differently — I had merely acceded to 
the wishes of a dying man? It seemed incredible 
that she should not understand! . . . And yet, 
knowing that my dismissal was final, I still lin- 
gered. 

It may have been that, in the unreasoning stress 
of my emotions, I entertained a forlorn hope that, 
by some word or movement, she would give me a 
chance to explain. But, if so, such hope was in 
vain. And I finally withdrew, going sorrowfully 
to my stateroom, there to prepare for an early de- 
parture. 

It was while putting into my bag the few things 
I had brought with me, that I heard the Colonel’s 


The Passing of Lesears 325 

voice, and realized that the launch had returned. 
Hastening to the deck, I found the old soldier with 
Sibyl in his arms, the girl quietly weeping upon his 
shoulder; while in the act of disembarking from 
the launch were two uniformed men, whom I 
judged to be the officer assigned to take the yacht 
to port, and the doctor from the waiting liner. 

As I approached, the Colonel extended his hand. 
“ My boy ,” he said warmly, “ we owe more than 
our lives to you — more, a great deal more, than I 
can attempt to thank you for now, with our good 
friend Lesears in such a bad way. Where is he? 
I’ve brought the doctor along to have a look at 
him.” 

I was somewhat surprised that Sibyl had not 
told her guardian of the fate that had overtaken 
their guest, but merely attributed the omission to 
the girl’s overwrought condition. And as she had 
withdrawn upon the approach of the strangers and 
myself, I hastened to impart the sad news. 

“ I fear that the doctor will be of little avail 
now,” I replied quietly. 

“What! You don’t mean ” 

“ Alas, Colonel,” I said, placing my hand gently 
upon his shoulder, as I saw how very much my 


326 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


words had moved him, “ he passed away scarcely 
an hour ago ! ” 

The old man bowed his head, and appeared 
deeply affected. “ Poor fellow ! Poor fellow ! ” 
he murmured. “ I had no idea — Sibyl did not say 
anything. You will keep it from her until mother 
comes aboard, I suppose. That is good of you, my 
boy, — really good of you ! ” 

I did not answer — how could I! And thus we 
solemnly proceeded to where Lesears lay in all 
the majestic serenity of death. The Colonel entered 
the saloon alone, falling upon his knees at the bed- 
side, and remaining for some minutes in silent 
prayer. And when, finally, he emerged, his face 
shocked me, so perceptibly had it aged ! 

The doctor next made a brief examination. But 
he rejoined us in a few moments, shaking his head 
negatively. 

“ There was no hope from the first — the wound 
was a mortal one ! ” he said, gravely ; thereupon 
requesting that, as his services were not required, 
he be permitted to return to his ship at once, that 
it might continue its interrupted voyage. 

It was at this point that I felt compelled to take 
the step that Sibyl’s words had made imperative. 


The Passing of Lesears 327 

“ Colonel,” I said, “ I should like to have a word 
with you in private, before the doctor leaves us. 

“ You shall not be detained more than a minute, 
sir,” I added, turning to the physician. 

My host led the way into his stateroom, and 
there I informed him (as best I could, without tak- 
ing him into my confidence) of my desire to return 
to New York on the waiting liner, assuring him of 
my sincere regret at having to leave him at such a 
time, and without being able to take leave of the 
ladies. 

“ I am not surprised to hear it, my boy, after 
what you've gone through,” he replied, grasping 
my hand, while the tears stood in his eyes. “ But 
for the noble work of you and poor Val, we should 
have lost our Sibyl. Heaven forgive me for my 
vengeful thoughts of the dead, but if that Swenaldi 
had not met his just deserts at your hand, he would 
certainly have met them at mine ! ” 

It was quite evident that the Colonel knew noth- 
ing about Lesears' acts prior to his death, and I re- 
spected the sailors whom I had sent ashore with 
the launch, for their fine consideration of their em- 
ployer's feelings in this regard. Evidently, they 
had felt that it was not their duty to divulge the 


328 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


treachery of the guest whom he so honored; and, 
in deference to the dead man’s penitence, I deter- 
mined that it should not be mine. I spoke a few 
words on behalf of the men, but the Colonel as- 
sured me that he contemplated taking no action 
whatever, as he was fully persuaded as to where the 
responsibility really lay. 

Thus, with a moment’s pressure of hands, which 
conveyed the words our hearts were too full to 
speak, I left him and the yacht upon which I had 
won and lost so much. Nor had I the courage to 
look back, until fully half a mile of blue water lay 
between us. 

When I did, I saw something that left me in a 
fever of uncertainty. A woman’s figure, which I 
knew could only be Sibyl’s, stood upon the after- 
deck, and the instant I turned there was a flutter of 
white, as though she had waved her handkerchief. 
The mists of early morning, however, made ob- 
jects, at such a distance, too indistinct for me to be 
sure that the movement was intended for a signal. 
And ere I could make up my mind to respond, the 
yacht had faded out of sight completely. 

I learned from Sam, as we were en route to the 
liner, that it was the Colonel’s intention to take the 


The Passing of Lesears 329 

yacht to the nearest port, (a matter of four or five 
hours’ sail) where he would release the officer he had 
requisitioned, and visit Jamaica in search of a new 
crew. 

“ I’m sorry to see ye go, sir,” declared the man, 
as we came alongside the steamer. “ Ye always 
’ad hinfluence with the guv’nor, and I fear as ’ow 
there’s trouble brewing fer us men when we touch 
land. An’, bless yer ’eart, there ain’t no honester 
tars than them lads, nowhere ! ” 

“ You made a big mistake in deserting the yacht, 
my man,” I replied, “ and one which surely would 
have landed you all in jail, had it been from any 
other vessel upon the high seas. But I have reason 
to believe that the Colonel intends to overlook it — 
purely out of the goodness of his heart, and through 
no mediation of mine.” 

“ Thank’e, sir, thank’e kindly ! An’ good luck 
ter ye ! ” 

And a few minutes later, with a sigh of secret 
agony, I witnessed the last visible evidence of my 
eventful cruise swallowed up in the mist. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 


IN CONCLUSION. 

Briggs met me with the news that we had 
cleaned up $150,000 on the historic rise of C. L. R., 
and that the firm was now in a state of financial 
convalescence. He went so far as to offer to buy 
up my partnership at any figure, within reason, 
that I might mention, remarking laconically that I 
ought to take a rest from active business. But even 
this contumely failed to arouse me from the depths 
of apathy into which I had sunk. 

Three or four weeks after my return, I re- 
ceived a characteristic and very affectionate letter 
from Mrs. Cavashaw, written at Marseilles. Sheer 
modesty compelled me to pass hastily over the first 
part, which was written in eulogistic terms of grati- 
tude for acts of mine that were merely the product 
of my love for Sibyl. The letter then proceeded to 
recount the doings of the party since I had left 
them, stating that they had felt obliged to forsake 
330 


In Conclusion 


331 


the yacht at Jamaica and take passage to Europe, 
owing to the ill health of Sibyl, who seemed to be 
quite unable to recover from the shock of her ex- 
periences; and concluded by begging me to join 
them on the Riviera, as: “ ... we feel sure that 
you will succeed in cheering Sibyl up, where we have 
utterly failed.” 

Evidently Sibyl’s guardians did not suspect our 
attachment, much less the real cause of my abrupt 
departure north. But, impossible though it was 
for me to rejoin the Cavashaws, the letter con- 
tained a great deal that was gratifying to my ach- 
ing spirit. I was glad to know that Sibyl had not 
spoken of the brief affair between us, which to me 
must ever remain sacred. I was glad, too, that she 
possessed the rare magnanimity to withhold the 
facts in regard to Lesears. It was noble of her, 
and led to the conviction that, whatever reason she 
had for her last words to me, she was not know- 
ingly unjust. She had never been that! Many 
times, in the early days we spent together, she had 
wrongfully accused me, but always she had ac- 
knowledged her mistake and more than atoned for 
any injury done. Indeed, so wholly delightful 
were these reconciliations, that I secretly welcomed 


332 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


a difference in anticipation of its subsequent joys. 
Thus, although the letter contained an invitation 
that was impossible of acceptance, it came as a 
balm rather than as an aggravation to my sorrow, 
occasioning the happiest of reminiscences. 

It was upon the day that I answered Mrs. Cava- 
shaw’s communication that I determined to pay a 
visit to the old homestead in the Berkshires, and 
there wander at will amongst the cherished scenes 
of my boyhood. I addressed the letter and slipped 
it into my pocket before leaving my rooms, and 
there it remained until its degree of usefulness no 
longer entitled it to a five-cent postage stamp. 

The day was ideal, and as I alighted from the 
train at the familiar old station and breathed the 
dulcet afternoon air, laden with the rich fragrance 
of spring blossoms, it occurred to me that, after all, 
the man was not happiest who lived alone, effec- 
tually buried within himself in the seething multi- 
tude of a vast city. I sighed at the thought, and 
confess to having indulged in quite a futile dream 
of what might have been. 

Although fully two miles lay before me I set out 
afoot, for my destination was a lonely spot in the 
woods, and I had no wish to be taken for a fugitive 


In Conclusion 


333 


from justice by an over-imaginative hack-driver. 
Nor was this my only reason for walking. There 
were many places along the road which awakened 
happy memories, and at which I was glad to linger. 

Not the least important of these was Baxter’s 
farmhouse, now a little less gay in color, to be sure, 
and with perhaps a few more weeds in the lawn, 
since Madam Baxter’s garden-parties had become 
things of the past. But, nevertheless, it was the 
same house with the same identical lawn, in the 
center of which towered the historic flagpole, bear- 
ing marks which seemed to indicate that it had not 
even boasted a coat of paint since the Colonel had 
performed his notable feat of “ shinnying ” up it. 

And, a quarter of a mile further down the road, 
stood the old homestead itself, not in the least 
changed from when I had left it at the time of my 
mother’s death, seven years before — thanks to the 
old gardener and his wife, whom I retained as 
caretakers, rather than sell the house while they 
lived. I would fain have entered the house, from 
the upper windows of which a view could be had 
of the Cavashaws’ mansion, rearing its white Colo- 
nial pillars above the trees on the hilltop. But it 
was already late in the afternoon, and I was obliged 


334 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

to be satisfied with merely passing through the 
grounds on my way to the woods, albeit I paused a 
moment still further to indulge in my futile dream 
of what might have been. 

And so, coming at last upon the place I had set 
out to visit, I passed into the grateful shade of the 
trees, and gazing up through their arched branches 
to the infinite blue beyond, sought to conjure back 
but one of the many happy hours that Sibyl and I 
had spent there. The only sound which broke upon 
the silence was the sweet music of the brook, beside 
which Sibyl used always to read aloud. Indeed, so 
closely did I associate the sound with her reading, 
that I seemed actually to hear her voice mingling 
with the murmur of water. 

And as I drew nearer the sacred place, marked 
by the fallen tree upon which we had sat together, I 
found that the voice had not been mere fancy after 
all, for the log was occupied by a young girl who 
was reading softly to herself from a book. Her 
back was toward me, and the sound of my ap- 
proach had evidently been lost in the babbling of 
the stream, for she remained unaware of my pres- 
ence. 

I was about to retrace my steps, keenly disap- 


In Conclusion 


335 


pointed that my pilgrimage should thus have been 
intruded upon, when my foot encountered a dry 
twig which snapped with a sharp report. 

The girl turned with a startled look. 

“ Edgar ! ” she cried. And the next instant she 
was in my arms, sobbing convulsively and burying 
her face against my shoulder. . . . 

“ Why — why were you going away? ” she whis- 
pered. 

“ Because I had no idea that it was you, darling 
— I can hardly believe it is really my Sibyl, even 
now ! ” I exclaimed, holding her from me, and 
looking into her eyes with the incredulity of one 
suddenly confronted with the impossible. 

“You might have known !” she murmured re- 
proachfully. 

“ But I have only just received a letter ” 

“From France, with United States postage on! 
You foolish boy! You were never observant, 
Edgar! Mother wrote that letter in Marseilles, 
and didn’t mail it because I simply wouldn’t stay.” 

“ And you mailed it here, Sibyl ? ” 

“ Yes, I mailed it in the village, night before 
last, because dad said he was going to ask you to 
come and visit us, as soon as we got settled down.” 


336 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 

I gazed at her resignedly. 

“ I am no longer in doubt that it is really you, 
Sibyl,” I said. 

********* 

After dinner that evening, with the complacency 
peculiar to lovers, Sibyl and I took possession of 
the little arbor in the garden, where the Colonel 
was wont to smoke his cigar. And here we laid 
our plans for the future — the near future. 

It was while telling Sibyl of the dream that I had 
indulged in during my pilgrimage — futile then, but 
now so soon to be realized — that the Colonel, with 
Mrs. Cavashaw upon his arm, appeared. 

“ Well, well ! ” he exclaimed in feigned surprise. 
“ This is the one place I felt sure we would not 
come upon them unawares ! ” 

" You can come in, dad,” said Sibyl. a We 
were only waiting until you came, before going 
for a ride.” 

“ I’m afraid it must be simply 4 Uncle George ’ 
from now on, sweetness,” rejoined the Colonel, 
smiling and patting Sibyl’s cheek, but failing to 
hide a certain sadness in his voice. 

“ Why, dad, what do you mean?” asked the 


In Conclusion 


337 


girl with sudden timidity, obviously dreading some 
awful disclosure. 

“ There is nothing to be frightened of, my darl- 
ing, said Mrs. Cavashaw, fondly caressing Sibyl 
who had instinctively gone to her side. “ You 
are a woman now, and about to assume a woman’s 
responsibilities, and we want you and dear Edgar 
to know something that you are both entitled to 
know, and that will add to your future happi- 
ness.” 

“ There is not much to tell you,” pursued the 
Colonel, sadly, “but what little there is concerns 
you, Sibyl, — and my brother. He was a brave and 
handsome boy, and literally worshipped his dear 
wife. But she died soon after their baby girl was 
born, and I have always felt that the blow was too 
much for poor Fred. He disappeared, leaving no 
word, whatever, as to his whereabouts or his in- 
tentions, and it was only by the merest chance that 
I found what he had done with the baby. I re- 
covered the child — then almost a year old — from 
an orphanage, without revealing its identity; and I 
have kept this a secret ever since, for my brother’s 
sake. We adopted the girl and brought her up as 
pur own, thanking God each day for the happi- 


338 The Drifting of the Cavashaws 


ness He had sent into our lives. Until now, our 
dear Sibyl has grown to woman's estate, and even a 
brother's love must not keep from her the knowledge 
that is rightfully hers." 

As the old man ceased speaking he tenderly 
drew his beautiful wife to him, and together they 
stood facing us in silence. 

“ Oh, dad ! Oh, mother ! " cried Sibyl, throw- 
ing her arms about their necks and bursting into 
passionate tears. “ Please, please do not leave me 
— I love you as my father and mother, and I al- 
ways will — always ! always ! " 

“ My own precious pet ! " exclaimed Mrs. Cav- 
ashaw, deeply affected. “ We were not thinking of 
leaving you! We simply wanted you to know all 
about your dear little self." 

“ Why, my dear girl," interposed the Colonel, 
after he had sneezed noisily several times as a pre- 
lude to the return of his jovial spirits, “it is you 
that are going to leave us ! 

“ But, after all," he added, turning to me with 
a ring of earnestness in his voice, despite himself, 
“ you'll not take her further than yonder house 
across the fields, will you, my boy? " 

“ Not unless you ask us to go on another cruise," 


In Conclusion 


339 


I replied, laughing. “ In that case, Colonel, we’ll 
run away ! ” 

“ Dearest,” whispered Sibyl, after the two el- 
derly people had gone, and we had sat for some 
time in that sacred silence known only to lovers, 
“ dearest, I am very happy in the knowledge that 
I am not a waif. Tell me something — does it make 
any difference to you ? ” 

“ None, darling,” I replied, “ — except that I am 
glad you promised to be my wife before we knew.” 


THE END. 


IS THIS YOUR SON, MY LORD? 

By Helen H. Gardener. 

/j|*NE of the most powerful and realistic novels 
written by an American outhor in this literary 
generation. It is a terrible expose of conventional im- 
morality and hypocrisy in modern society. Every high- 
minded woman who desires the true progression of her 
sex will want to touch the inspiriting power of this 
book. ^ 

“No braver voice was ever raised, no clearer note was ever 
struck, for woman’s honor and childhood’s purity.” — The 
Vanguard, Chicago. 

“A novel of power, and one which will stir up a breeze 
unless certain hypocritical classes are wiser than they 
usually are.” — Chicago Times. 

“It comes very close to any college man who has kept 
his eyes open. When we finish we may say, not, ‘Is This 
Your Son, My Lord?’ but ‘Is it I?’ ” — Nassau Literary 
Magazine, Princeton. 

Cloth, Price, Postpaid, $1.00. 


PRAY YOU, SIR, WHOSE DAUGHTER? 

By Helen H. Gardener. 

4 * VERY legislator in every state should read it and ask 
*1^ his conscience whether, if such iniquitous laws are 
on the statute books of his state, he should hasten 
to move their repeal.” 

“She has not written for effect! nor fame! for amusement! 
nor money! but out of her great heart and soul she has 
preached a sermon for the masses.” — Humanity and Health. 

Cloth, Price, Postpaid, $1.00. 


R. F. FENNO & COMPANY 


NEW YORK 



















NOV 22 1913 


























































































































































































































































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